GUTI: Stay With Me
by Niji Hitomi Kabra
Summary: When he took the job at the dive bar just off Red Line Ave, Sanji Noir really didn't know what he was getting himself into. Life was hard growing up the second son of the most famous riverboat chef on the Four Blues, but surrounded by the craziest people he's ever met, he's found himself sucked into chaos, intrigue, and romance? Just what kind of bar is Luffy running here? ModernAU
1. 3 October

**A/N:** Hey, minna! It's been a while since I posted a longfic, huh? This is the first chapter of my NaNoWriMo, and I've stepped away from tradition here a little bit. My beloved co-author, Silva, has had some personal troubles lately, so she's here writing for Zoro, and in this chapter she's also got Nami, but over the course of this fic we'll also see guest stars voicing other characters as they show up. I'll link to them up here before each chapter and list who they've written for, along with any warnings you might need to pay attention to, like in this chapter we've got some **violence** of the standard Sanji/Zoro variety. Anyway, enjoy! Ja ne~!

* * *

><p>Sanji looked down at his phone with a small frown, "Thousand Sunny right, bone man?"<p>

The device chimed back, the words [**yes indeed sanjisan yohohoho**] popped up on the screen.

The blond cook frowned harder, and took a final drag on his cigarette.

In front of him the small bar was both ostentatious and out of the way at the same time somehow, with a bright red and yellow lion's head above the door between the two words in the name. The figure looked like it had been something else before the addition of a flower petal-shaped mane, and the rest of the store front was plastered with posters for bands, both big names and indie groups. It was tucked onto the corner lot between Windmill Avenue and Raftel Street, just a few blocks' walk from where Red Line crossed Grand Line at the center hub of the city.

Not the nicest of neighborhoods.

Most of the rest of the buildings around it were apartments, rowhouses, and the occasional small mom-and-pop type stores. Like the clothing boutique across Windmill Ave; Pappagu's Crimin Designs. Sanji suspected from the gap between the letters the second word was supposed to be 'criminal' but someone had stolen the lights and metal from the A and L.

He took a breath and tossed the butt of his smoke—one more wouldn't be noticed among the rest of the litter. With some misgivings he pulled open the door and was immediately assaulted by chaos!

Somebody was banging on a drum set, somebody else seemed to be banging a counter-rhythm with a hammer, there was the sound of a third person wailing about something unintelligible, and just as he dared stick his nose into the entryway, a man who couldn't have been older than twenty bounced, literally, across his path dressed in a bright red, sleeveless hoodie, and of all things, a straw hat!

Sanji blinked, wondering just what his downstairs neighbor had gotten him into. He couldn't turn back though. He needed the job. That shitty cafe with its stupid closed-minded manager and—_that shit was illegal, jackass!_ He shook himself and wandered through the collection of tables just in front of the bar itself. It granted him a chance to look into the kitchen—small, but manageable. He could work with that easily. Then, following the logical path around the end of the counter, he approached what he assumed was the managerial office, tucked behind the stairs that led to the stage that took up the entire wall opposite the door.

"For the last time, Zoro, no!"

The woman was beautiful, and clearly done with the conversation. Her long red hair was bound in a loose tail that curled and cascaded down her back past a shirt that was too short to be fair and jeans that were almost too low to be legal! Sanji felt himself start to noodle, he'd kill to have a figure like that! Of course, anyone who saw him would assume he was attracted to her, and that was just how he liked it.

"Nami, I have fucking rent to pay! I've been here six months! A dollar won't send the bar into the fucking poorhouse!" The man who was pursuing the woman was... well, very, VERY different.

He was the definition of rough-hewn power; shoulders broad and thick, with muscles that rippled under his sleeveless black shirt that read "SECURITY" as he gesticulated with both hands, a tendon in his neck standing out as he bared his teeth. His hand movements chimed a set of three golden earrings in his left ear, his dark green eyes bright and hard.

"You're already paying me almost a CRIMINALLY low amount and you know it! And don't tell me again to take it up with Luffy! We all know _you_ are the financial officer around here so he doesn't spend it all on weird furniture and additions!"

"My hands are tied! Minimum is all I can give you until you've been here a year! I didn't make the rules! Garp did when he signed the place over to Luffy!" She planted both hands on her desk, the papers in her left wrinkling slightly, "We all have rent to pay, damnit! You just have to find a way to make do! Get your guitar or something and jam with Sabo for tips!"

"I can't afford strings! Which is why I need a raise, surely there's a loophole in the rules?! If anyone would find out it'd be you, come on!"

Both his hands buried in his hair—his bright, lime mixed with grass, green hair! What the actual fuck?! It wasn't a threat against the woman, but certainly not calm in any form because he was _yanking_ on it.

"Don't you think if there was a loophole in the rules I'd have used it myself?! I'm not making that much more than you, you know!" Her bangles clanged in almost response to the irritated jingle of the green haired man's earrings.

"What can we do then? I can't AFFORD to work here another six months, Nami, I'll be shit outta luck and on the street and too dirty to come to work! What the hell are we supposed to do?!"

"For a start, calm down, Jesus!" Sanji stepped into the other guy's personal space only because the office was so small and cut off whatever Nami had been about to say. "If things are so bad, I lend you the money to get strings, don't go off on the lady like some kind of ape!"

The man stopped, and his brow furrowed. Slowly, like it was a struggle, his eyes turned to the strange blond currently butting his nose in, the left with noticeable lag thanks to the wicked scar that bisected the lid from above his eyebrow to almost the ridge of his cheek bone. He blinked at him a couple times, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"...Do I know you?"

"No. I just can't stand to see people like you trapping women in a corner like that." The blond's visible eyebrow twitched and the opposite edge of his lip curled.

Blinking again, the bouncer then looked at Nami. "...are you trapped in a corner?"

Again the redhead opened her mouth to respond, only to have the newcomer cut her off, with an edge in his voice that spoke of something more than the current altercation, "You've got her behind the desk and you're filling the entire rest of the damn office with your shitty muscles! Of course she's trapped! What else is she gonna do? Climb over you to get out?"

"Last time somebody wouldn't get out of her way she kicked him in the balls. Besides, of course she's behind the desk. She was probably gonna shove the contract fuckin' Garp drew up for this place in my face again. Or beat me with it like a dog with a newspaper, whichever's more appealing."

His body had moved entirely sideways to face the stranger, who he was eyeing up and down. Every so often, his gaze flicked to Nami. She'd been cut off _twice_, a recipe that often led to disaster, and was starting to put _him_ on edge.

"Look," Nami hopped over the desk between them, angling the blond back out into the hallway, and thus proving that she hadn't ever really been trapped in the first place. "Sanji, right? The guy Brook said was coming about the bar-tending job?" At his nod she continued, her voice as sweet as honey at the way his nose flared, "We're good. Why don't you just go check out the kitchen and whip something up for me? I don't much care what. Consider it your interview, ne?"

Then, without even bothering to find out if he'd done as she asked, she turned back around to face Zoro, and poked him in the chest.

"The discussion is over. I can't do anything about it, and you know it! I don't know how many times I have to tell you before you get it through your head. There's nothing I can do! Now go catch our '_boss_'" she rolled her eyes, "before he gets it in his head to try swinging from the stage lights again! We can't afford the paperwork involved with Franky fixing them!"

The bouncer sighed, then his whole body relaxed as he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. But tell blondie the White Knight over there I'll hold him to that offer for a set of strings," he grumbled, slipping past her with a surprising amount of agility for a man his size and through the doorway to go collect Luffy—

"LUFFY! WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT THE LIGHT RIG?! _GET DOWN FROM THERE!_"

Nami inhaled deeply and barely resisted whimpering. If the rest of the day was like this she was seriously gonna needed one of Vivi's special baths just to unwind. And there was still the band to replace after talking to Law earlier. Ugh... She could feel the headache pounding between her ears already.

Then there was a tall glass of something lightly orange and poured over chopped ice with a twist of what looked like mikan on the rim in front of her. She blinked at it, following the arm that put it down up to a rolled cuff at a slender, if toned, bicep.

She frowned, "I thought I said cook something. This is a drink."

"How true it is, Mellorine~!" Sanji chirped, sounding like the sarcastic comment was a true compliment thanks to the way he fluttered his eyelashes at her. "Your assignment is not quite ready, I was delayed and thought one of my father's signature headache cures could help you forget the meathead from before."

She took the glass and used the provided straw to stir it, though it was quite well stirred (perfectly blended, actually), mostly for something to do with one hand while the other massaged her temple.

"Trust me, he's not the worst of my worries. The idiot he's chasing off the light rig is," she pointed at Luffy, mouth turning down. "Zoro is just a little desperate. He doesn't have anywhere to go if he loses his apartment, and they've raised the price of rent the last three months in a row without any explanation."

She sipped the drink, letting the tangy, cooling juice slip over her tongue and down her throat, and almost like magic just the taste of it seemed to dissipate some of the headache.

"But we've lost the band we'd had booked for the week, and our revenue already isn't exactly six digits thanks to our location. No, Sanji, I have far, far greater headaches to deal with than one panicking bouncer."

The cook was taken aback by the explanation, though he still didn't like the way the other man had loomed over the pretty manager. "Well," he shifted ingredients around in a bowl with a flick of his wrist that was as much show as it was function, tossing the whole thing in the air while he thought for a moment, "you could try an open mic night, half the tips goes to the house for the use of space, invite all the locals for a chance to jump up in front of the lights. And half the kitchen equipment is superfluous if you hire me. You could sell it easily at the swap shop down in Loguetown and get back at least as much as you paid for it."

The whole time he was talking, he was working, moving around the square room as though it was his own already. The fire on the stove flashed as he caught the juices from the pan into which his previous bowl had been poured, and the scent of something downright sinful wafted across the dining room, catching the attention of all who smelled it. A shift of his hips had him pulling something out of the toaster oven that looked like baked haddock, but that was impossible in the amount of time he'd been there. Then a timer went off, he flicked his wrist to bank the flames, spun to grab another dish of vegetables and what could have been cheese from the other side of the kitchen with barely a step, and brought everything back over to the metal counter just below where the taps stuck up next to the door.

His eyes flicked up, scanned the room in an instant and the next thing Nami knew there were enough plates for everyone lining the bar. Each had a portion of the fish and the meat from the pan he'd seared, a topping of vegetables steamed with an aromatic sauce, and rolls that had originally appeared too stale to eat, toasted and topped with cheese and spices. He cleaned himself up as he went, making the plates, the counter, and the kitchen spotless but for the sink of dirty dishes waiting for the end of the meal.

Then he gave a shrug, "Though if things are going as poorly as you think they are, I won't press you for a job. If you can't afford to give the mossball what he needs to pay his rent, you certainly can't afford to hire me. Better to keep a roof over his head."

Nami chewed on her pencil as the others, drawn in like magic to the food, each stationed themselves in front of a plate, running calculations in her head. As such, she almost wasn't paying attention when she put down the pencil to pick up the roll and bite into it—at which point the thought of absolutely anything else vanished from her mind.

It was glorious and perfect and she closed her eyes for a moment as appreciative sounds erupted all around her, but she was lost in the pure flavor of something that tasted so good, something that tasted so much like _home_, it made her ache for Vivi's arms.

Even Zoro's sour expression had softened, his left eye slipping shut as he quietly ate another bite of the fish.

Sanji smiled, leaning back against the opposite counter. He knew each dish was perfect, had sampled them all in the process of making them, and was pleasantly full having done so. With the exception of the sight from earlier rocking his core, the cook was quite happy with how the day was shaping up. Even if the gorgeous Nami didn't hire him, he was satisfied that he'd at least helped her out somehow.

Then a voice cut across his thoughts, "SANJI! JOIN MY CREW!"

"DON'T JUST DECIDE THESE THINGS!" Another cut across the bar.

The first, Luffy, jumped to his feet, his fists high in the air, "Yosh!"

The second, a man of African descent with a nose like Pinocchio, waved his hand at the other, "Oi oi oi! Have you even talked to Nami?! You know everything has to go through—"

Nami held up a hand to stall him. More accurately, so she could swallow. "What the idiot said. You're hired. See, Sanji, if you cook one meal every day, that mitigates food costs for all of us sufficiently not only that I can pay you as much as the contract allows me, but gives everyone else enough leeway to afford rent. Or... more food, in Luffy's case, because he's a bottomless pit."

There was a smacking sound to their right to illustrate the point.

"Ow! This is my plate, Luffy, and I know it is un-SUPER of me, but I'm not letting you snitch off mine tonight!"

Luffy jumped back with barely a yelp and snatched the roll from the kid who'd been drumming earlier—looked like he couldn't have been more than seventeen, if that, all lanky and unfinished. He pouted at the black-haired man. The statuesque woman with ebony hair and Asian features next to him somehow reached around Luffy to grab the roll back, and winked at the younger boy. Sanji thought that should have been comforting but for some reason the kid blushed and swore at her. The guy to the other side, bigger than the mosshead from before, laughed out loud and tossed his own roll at the 'captain', in spite of what he'd said before. And Sanji once again had the thought of just what he was getting himself into cross his mind.

Inexplicably, his attention was drawn to the bouncer from before, Zolo or something like that. Big guy, heavy muscles, wicked scar on his face, in a violent profession? Yeah... Sanji knew his type, and he shuddered. At least the other guy in the security shirt looked relaxed and personable. Mosshead looked like he wanted to punch something. It made the blond push himself unconsciously closer to the counter, hands gripping the edge hard, and a scowl between his brows.

He was eating though, with the slow, methodical bites that let him savor the flavor of each individual bite, but did not let the food have time to get cold. And though his expression had softened some, it had not completely gone away. He occasionally took small sips from his water glass, his thick Adam's apple bobbing.

Fuck he was hot too! Sanji cursed mentally. His father would smack him senseless if he brought another one of those home. So, instead he forced himself to look away and smiled winningly at Nami, suddenly aware he hadn't actually answered her yet.

"I'd be glad to exchange my services to offset the costs accrued by raising everyone's salary. And I think you'll find everyone works that much more efficiently with a balanced meal before the doors open. Are you expecting anyone else this evening?"

She shook her head, swallowing before answering. "No, Brook and Vivi are off today. You'll meet her tomorrow, and Brook said he lives in the apartment below you right?"

He gave a nod.

"Good, then that's everybody—"

"Unless Luffy's brothers show up." The long-nosed man pointed out.

Sanji looked at him, confused, "Brothers?"

Nami nodded, gesturing with her fork again, "Sabo and Ace. They live with him in the apartment above the club. If nothing else you'll meet them on Wednesday when Ace comes in to paint the walls again."

The seventeen-year-old piped up, "Don't forget Law!"

A frustrated scowl crossed her brow at the name, "He's usually here later, when the bands play. And only when he's off. Or isn't called in because somebody _else_ called off."

She huffed and the dark-haired woman patted her shoulder comfortingly. Sanji surmised that whoever Law was must have been part of the band she'd been talking about earlier and sympathized with her via nearly visible hearts as he happily replaced her drink before serving one of the same to the other woman.

Speaking up for the first time, her violet eyes sparkled with mirth at the cook's actions, "Why, Cook-san, it appears you already have a knack for predicting what your patrons enjoy. A remarkable talent. One might even say you've sanded it down to a sharp point."

A smile played about her lips, and she tucked a section of hair behind her ear, as Sanji stared at her. There was something about her, some energy that was familiar. The motion shortened her hair on that side so that the ends brushed her jawline—a clearly deliberate gesture—and the cook's eyes went wide.

"Robin!" He snatched up her hand in a pirouette of smiles, kissing the back of each knuckle with a chirp of praise. "I have not seen you in so many years, my precious flower! Even more radiant than you ever were! Please tell me you are not just passing through, and that I might be granted the boon of working with you again, no matter how undeserving the setting!"

She laughed, taking her hand back, and sipped at her drink, quiet and mysterious as always.

"Robin is one of our two waitresses." Nami supplied, rolling her eyes at the declarations of love. "And this is Franky, our other bouncer and handyman. Usopp works wherever we need him basically, and doubles as our resident tech guru. Luffy technically owns the place but mostly gets in the way." The dark-haired man grinned unashamed when she pointed at him, so she moved on, "Chopper is your busboy, basically he's there to—"

Sanji held up a hand, "I grew up in a restaurant. Don't worry about a thing. I'll be glad to work him into the floor."

He gave the teenager a dark smile that had Robin chuckling, so Nami didn't respond to it, or being cut off. Again. That was a habit she was going to have to break before he caught her at the wrong moment.

"Anyway, Vivi and Ace also wait tables when they're here. Sabo fills in anywhere. Brook usually runs our sound board, and you already met Zoro earlier. So, this would be the usual gang to be fed. Usually no more than eight or nine of us at a time, except on weekends, though he," she jabbed her fork into Luffy's side, "really counts as more like ten people all by himself."

The owner giggled a strangled sound through his teeth, a finger under his nose.

Zoro snorted on the end, because if anything that was an underestimation and it was amusing. Still, he didn't stop eating to say anything, and didn't put his fork down until he cleared his plate.

A snarl crawled up Sanji's back at the sound, but he forced himself to ignore it, grinning at Luffy instead. "You're the Rubberman aren't you?"

"Yup!" The young man grinned, unabashedly still with a mouthful of food pushing his cheeks out like a chipmunk.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ow! His old man owned the place." The blue-haired bouncer answered for their captain. "Left it to him when he died."

Sanji frowned, confused, "How can you manage touring the country and still managing the club?"

Zoro burst out laughing. "Oh my god. Luffy! Managing!" He hunched up in his seat, head almost hitting the bartop as he fairly howled at the thought. "Nami did you hear him?! LUFFY! Managing this place!"

Embarrassment climbed his face as the blond took in the same mirth pouring from all of those gathered around the bar, and he cleared his throat, beginning to gather up the dishes. He made an elaborate show of picking up Nami's and spoke deliberately, even though the words were flowery.

"Then I must assume you are the one in charge, my beautiful mellorine, for obviously the rest of these muscleheads wouldn't know management if it bit them in the ass. I'm sure we are in capable hands, between you, Miss Robin, and your stunning sister, Vivi."

He took the dark haired woman's hand and kissed her knuckles again before she could do anything else about it, but let her go again equally as fast, not want to encroach on her personal space. And he was making assumptions about the third lady to be subjected to the boorish crew, having caught a glimpse of a vivacious woman a few years older than Nami herself in a photograph on the manager's desk before.

Beside Robin, Franky raised an eyebrow. He'd have said something but he caught a couple of things about the situation that made him elbow Usopp. Without Sanji's knowledge, they exchanged a look with the woman and she nodded, stifling their own reactions to his statement. So, Franky merely slid his arm around her back surreptitiously to soothe his own ruffled ego, even if he didn't honestly think the new cook meant anything serious in flirting with his long-time girlfriend.

On the other hand, Zoro couldn't stand it, he just laughed so hard he wheezed and fell off the chair. Sisters?! He knew it was an honest mistake, he did, but now that he'd started laughing he couldn't seem to stop!

A twitch rumbled down the cook's spine. He carefully put all of the dishes in the sink before he cracked one. This was a new job. He needed to get along with his co-workers. This wasn't the Baratie! He couldn't wail on the guy! No matter how much he wanted to. He was trembling with rage when the seventeen-year-old came up to him and started babbling.

"Thanks for the food, Sanji. I'm Tony, but everybody calls me Chopper, on a count of how I'm studying to be a surgeon. I'm your busboy and gopher and whatever I guess, which Nami already said, but I wanted to just—Are you okay?"

He looked worried, with bangs that fluffed out over his forehead like the shaggy mane of a reindeer. His eyes were too sharp for a kid his age as they flicked over the taller man from head to toe, taking in the cold sweat drying on the back of his neck, the beat of his pulse under his ear, the shiver of his long muscle groups, the way he kept leaning slightly onto his left leg like he was going to kick something with his right. The prodigy's mind clicked off the symptoms like a checklist: acute anxiety built upon probable PTSD and undoubtedly personal boundary issues, judging by the drape and hang of his clothing.

"Ah. I'm fine! Really." The blond smiled, tense, and unconvincingly. "Think you could stack the stuff in the dish machine for me. I gotta grab a smoke." 'Before I kill someone' was left unspoken between them.

"That stuff'll kill you, you know."

Sanji waved off the kid's concerns, intentionally pretending that all Chopper was talking about was his smoking addiction, focused on getting his fix and relaxing. So focused in fact that he didn't notice until he'd run his shoulder into the wall of muscle that was Zoro, and the way it happened looked like it was on purpose.

The green-haired man coughed, his laughter having tapered off, and raised his eyebrows at the other. "You really wanna fight, don'tcha, blondie?" He tilted his head to the side and grinned. "Fine then. Let's take it outside."

"I could mop the floor with you but I don't want it to catch your brand of stupid. Lime doesn't work so well on hardwood." Now that the ladies were out of range, the cook didn't bother hiding the sarcasm in his voice, his weight on his back leg.

"I've never had to wipe the floor yet, and that's why I said outside," Zoro snarked back, hands playing with his belt like there was supposed to be something there. "Afraid you'll look stupid in front of your precious 'ladies', are ya? Too proud to take a loss?"

"Loss? Hasn't been a meathead that could take me since I was twelve! You really wanna do this, mossball? Fine! Bring it!" Sanji growled, hands clenched into fists. By way of demonstration, he kicked the door open with a bang, "Age before beauty, shithead."

"I thought it was ladies first, fuckass," was shot back at him as the bouncer ducked under that long leg to get out the door.

"LADIES?!" Sanji shrieked, and spun, the heel that had been on the floor spun around and clocked the bouncer between the shoulders. "SAY THAT AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER! I FUCKING DARE YOU!"

Somehow he'd performed a full 360 degree pivot at a 90 degree angle to the floor using the foot with which he'd opened their way into the alley, and he was furious!

Zoro was thrown back into the wall, but once he recovered from his initial surprise and caught his breath he bared his teeth in mimicry of a grin. "That's what I'm fucking talking about. Do it again, Mr. White Fucking Knight. Do it again."

Sanji's upper body was loose, fists up to use his forearms to guard his head, and his weight balanced on one leg. The first punch was easily ducked around, wild and more force than aim, and something about it combined with his temper, a voice in his head telling him to wait. The fucker was baiting him.

"Yeah. Sure. Gimme a challenge and we'll fucking see if you can still talk so big after I've knocked the fucking teeth out of your shitty mouth."

They circled each other, both bouncing on the balls of their feet, and Sanji recognized the bandana gracing the grass-head's upper left bicep. Recognition lit up in his eyes and he let himself take a step back, putting distance between them for a moment, before rushing him with a roundhouse that would have taken his block off if Zoro hadn't rolled his shoulder up to catch it. The motion was matched with a slide of his left foot in a pivot to bring his right knee into what he thought was Sanji's open spot. A shin like steel met the attack instead. Sanji's elbow followed his body around to clock a slightly stunned Zoro in the temple, making stars explode across his vision.

Holy hell, the cook was out for blood! What the hell was his problem!? Zoro didn't even know the guy, and he shook his head trying to clear both the thoughts and he stars in the process, in the hopes that he could get some kind of read on where the fury was coming from.

All he had was a heartbeat before the blond was back in his face, feet flying, and he could barely keep up. His hits were like Luffy on a bad day with the speed of Usopp's paintball gun. Hip, knee, heel, shoulder, elbow, shin, fuck! Zoro blocked them all, keeping the fight going in a circle around the square lot behind the club's building and the rowhouse next door, but damn if he wasn't accruing bruises like he never did with the D brothers.

Sanji, on the other hand, only saw red. Lady?! Fucking LADY!? He'd kill him! He'd murder him! He didn't even care about the job anymore, all he knew was this clearly abusive motherfucker had no respect for women, and saw them as a lesser race, useful for attacking his fellow men because the worst thing they could possibly be was a woman! Well, fuck him! He could unlearn his transphobic, misogynistic ways under the steel of Sanji's shoe!

He advanced on him, flying kick to the face followed up with a knee to the bread basket and an elbow to the back of the head. He caught a punch across his jaw and spat blood to the side mid-leap. Then Zoro got in a lucky hit, a certain hard edge in his eyes, and caught the cook in the side, just between his stomach and his arm, where the ribs began.

An explosion of pain rocketed across Sanji's mind and he went down, lashing out with a final heel as his hands and arms caught on the ground. The sole of his shoe connected with Zoro's jaw, and the marimo went flying backwards into the door to the club with a resounding _CLANG! _that meant his head landed first.

"What the HELL is going on out here?!" Nami screeched from the doorway—apparently the door opened inwards was well as outwards.

Sanji heard Zoro groaning from where he fell, but the cook was far more focused on the way his body was having trouble taking in oxygen. The pain in his side blossomed with every inhale, and the back of his mind supplied that he'd need to strip down to take a full breath. He knew that intrinsically, but no! Not here! He couldn't! That was what had gotten him fired from his last job!

He coughed several times, "N-Nami, my dear! No need to… to worry. Just a lesson between…" he broke off coughing again, pushing himself to his feet unsteadily, "between co-workers. Provided I am allowed to throw myself upon your…" another round of coughing, though he found himself supported on both sides, "your mercy to beg for my job?"

"Ugh!"

She had her hand over her eyes, but her outlines were a little fuzzy. Was his eye swollen? He blinked a few times, yes… it sort of felt like it was going to be, even if it wasn't already.

"Just take them both to the ER. Law's on shift. Tell him he owes me for canceling."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey all, sorry this took a little longer getting out than I wanted it to, we had some hang-ups, but hey! It's out now, and it's thanks to the diligent work of my wonderful kouhai, The Red Harlequin On the Luna!

So, wouldn't you know, the first smut in this has neither Zoro or Sanji in it. X''D Ace here is played by Mah-blackberreh.

* * *

><p>Ace didn't pay much attention to his surroundings as he kicked open their shared bedroom and stomped inside. He didn't look at Luffy or Sabo, simply kicked off his sandals and threw himself face down onto the bed with a groan.<p>

And just lay there, unmoving.

He didn't even care about the red jasper beads around his neck that were currently digging into his collar bones. So much for 'energizing the body' and 'strengthening the energy field'. He was downright wiped out. He could barely even feel the push and pull of his hoard of stones scattered on every flat surface about the room. Even the crystal wind chime currently above his head was silent tonight. That was just how drained the art student felt.

Sabo looked up as soon as he entered, stilling the strings of his guitar and tilting his head. He waited for a minute or two, and then kicked the third of their trio in the thigh. Luffy batted at him and shifted further over, absorbed in his game—as he had been since bounding upstairs after Sanji's amazing dinner. He was one Jet Gatling Gun away from the end of the boss battle! Sabo glared, stretched out and kicked him again.

"Nngh! Sabo!" Luffy whined.

"Lu!" The blond forcibly pulled the younger brunette's head back so that he could look at the bed.

And subsequently died on his game.

"Aww." He tossed the controller to the floor at the base of the TV set, and then bounced to his feet so he could pounce onto the bed, bouncing his brother, "What's a matter, Ace?"

Sabo snickered, and took a moment more to put his guitar and tab notes away in the case carefully before joining the other two. He ran a hand down Ace's spine, rubbing little circles around the knob of each vertebra. Whatever was going on, he knew the other would at least enjoy the petting.

The brunet let out a soft 'oof' when he was moved with the force of Luffy's bounce, and shivered a little as he felt Sabo's hand. With a soft groan, he pillowed his head with his arms and tilted his head to pout at his brothers.

"I have just had a shiiiity day. Though..." He sighed. "Not really 'shitty', just... meh. Bad things happening, tired as shit, almost passed out on the way here... same-old, same old."

"Would it help if I told you Koala sent you one of those cinnamon thingies you like?" Sabo tried, still rubbing their oldest member's back.

Luffy sprawled out on his back touching Ace from shoulder to hip though he had his arms folded above his head. "Or that I hired Dadan's replacement?"

Ace's eyes widened and he sat up, excitement on his face. "She did? And you did? That's great news, Lu! Who are they?"

"Guy's name is Sanji Nur or something. He makes the best meat."

"Do you ever think with anything other than your stomach, Luffy?" Sabo shook his head, moving with Ace to continue massaging the tension out of his back with both hands.

The youngest grinned, "Nope!"

Ace's eyes fell to half-mast and his smile softened, pressing back into Sabo's touch once again. "Mmm good 'Bo... But really, asking that of Luffy even after so long? Should know he never changes." He twisted his head to grin at the blond. "But anyway, that's good. Can't wait to taste what he can cook."

"Yeah. Nami said it'll be good too cuz he can do drinks too. Though she hit me over the head when I told her I'd hired him." Luffy seemed to scrunch up his entire face in a grumpy pout.

Sabo left a kiss on the back Ace's neck, and leaned his chin on the other's shoulder, "Well you didn't talk to her about it. She's the business manager for a reason, you know. Jii-san wouldn't have hired her to manage the books if he didn't intend for her to have some power over what gets done with them you know."

"But she was just gonna hire him anyway! He's filling in for Dadan and Dogra!" The expressive 'captain' flung his arms up and then out, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and why didn't Nami get that he understood that!?

Ace let out a loud laugh, carded a hand through his hair to get some of the more annoying strands out of his face, and nudged Luffy's knee with his toe. "Still gotta run things by her, Lu."

"Hmph!"

Sabo joined in the laughing, dropping his arms to wrap around Ace's waist, "How'd the others take it anyway?"

Luffy bounced up into a sitting position with his legs crossed under him and grinned again, "Usopp almost had his face kicked off cuz Zoro and Sanji jumped at each other and Usopp was in the middle. Chopper almost fainted from it. And then Robin goes," he schooled his features in mimicry of the quiet woman, "I hope he doesn't lose too much blood before he gets out of the way; he might bleed out like that.' And Franky just gives her this look, you know, like he's not really sure why he's dating her. I don't think Sanji and Zoro even noticed! It was awesome! He's gonna be perfect!"

Ace laughed louder and harder, leaning against Sabo and rubbing the blond's thigh. "Gods I'm sorry I missed that! Sounds like things are gonna be a lot more chaotic than they usually are ahahah! So… Zoro and this Sanji guy don't get along?"

"Nah, they'll be great together!" Luffy waved him off.

Sabo frowned, "It sounds like they tried to kill each other, and Usopp! How is that 'great together'?"

The youngest got that look in his eye that meant he knew more than he was letting on, and just grinned. The blond rolled his eyes, burying his face in the nape of Ace's neck.

"Ugh, forget I asked."

"Hmm. Could be a love/hate thing." Ace shrugged and relaxed into Sabo's embrace, shivering again. His neck and back was feeling oddly sensitive today. "Best make sure no-one's caught in the cross-fire though, ne?"

"Like Usopp. Shishishishishishishishishi!" Luffy laughed through his teeth and Sabo groaned.

Ace snorted. "Yeah, like Usopp almost was. I mean, you don't want anyone sent to the hospital, yeah?"

"I dunno... Traffy's on shift tonight." The youngest leaned back on his hands, his eyes and nose pointed up towards the ceiling in mock-innocence.

"Oh...?" Ace shoved Luffy off the bed with his foot.

Sabo laughed along with the brother that was sprawled on the floor, "You know that's not gonna hurt him, Ace. He bounces like he's made of rubber."

The brunet pouted. "Yeah, yeah I know. But it was still worth a damn try."

"Could get you hit by another car, 'Bo." Luffy suggested, not even joking.

The blond winced, "No thanks. Once was one time too many. Who knows what it'd do to my pretty face if it happened again."

"Mmm no, we wouldn't want anything to happen to this perfection, now would we?" grinning, Ace turned a little and stroked Sabo's cheek and then flicked the tip of his nose.

"Oi! This face is gonna be famous! You just watch! I've got the one that's gonna get me on the radio in the works right now! I was working on it before you got here. Wasn't I, Lu?" Sabo turned to the youngest for support, but got none as he was clearly trying to think up some other reason to see the sexy surgeon. "Hmph." The middle of the trio huffed, and confirmed himself, "Well, I was."

"I'm sure you were, 'Bo." Grin never fading, Ace pecked his cheek and then shifted out of his arms to flop back down onto the bed with a yawn. "Why not play it now? Show me~"

"Cuz you'll fall asleep." Luffy called from the floor where he hadn't moved.

Ace groaned. "Give me a little more credit than that! I can stay awake!"

"Nope. You've got the shakes already."

Sabo very wisely stayed out of the argument as he moved over to get his guitar anyway. Luffy was right, of course, but calling Ace out on it wasn't really fair when the oldest brother had classes most of the day.

The brunet just let out an irritated grumble and scooted up to the headboard. "Look, I ain't layin' down anymore, not gonna nod off so easily now."

When Luffy didn't say anything else, Sabo sat between them, glancing back and forth and wondering slightly if that was how the youngest was going to get himself to the hospital—pick a fight with the oldest. He cleared his throat about to say something about his song, when Luffy popped back up above the bed, leveling Ace with the look that meant he didn't want to hear anything against what he was about to say.

"You need a deliberate nap so you don't fall asleep in the middle of dinner later."

And Sabo winced.

A scowl creased Ace's face and he crossed his arms over his chest, staring right back at Luffy. "Dinner's hours away. I can nap after the song."

"Nap now and Sabo can play the song after."

Ace grit his teeth. "No."

"Yes." Luffy started to scowl.

"No." Ace's scowl darkened.

Luffy clenched his fists. "Yes!"

Sabo felt like he was at a tennis match.

Ace didn't move. "No."

"Y—"

Sabo clapped a hand over both of their mouths to stop himself from getting any dizzier. His guitar was balanced carefully in front of him and he sighed.

"How about I play until Ace falls asleep," sensing both of them about to protest, he spoke over them, "AND after until dinner's ready. I could use the practice anyway."

Ace pulled his head back and huffed out, "Fine, fine, whatever… go ahead. But I ain't gonna sleep for at least another ten minutes. Cause I wanna hear it."

"NYAHH!" Luffy licked Sabo's hand to make the blond pull back with an expression of disgust. "Heathen."

"Stuffy mediator."

The younger brunette kicked back, flopping back onto the floor, clearly frustrated. Though whether that was due to losing the argument or because he hadn't been able to goad Ace into really fighting with him so he could have a legitimate reason to go see Law wasn't clear.

In either case, Sabo just sighed and pulled his instrument into his lap. He gave Ace a patient look, "At least lay down a little further, so you don't fall over by accident. I know we're looking for ways to get hurt, but I don't wanna have to pick lamp pieces out of your hair. Again."

The brunet huffed again and scooted down a little so that he was mostly lying down. "There, is that better?"

"Yeah." The one in the middle smiled, gave a glance at the youngest, and without any further ado, began strumming out a steady chord change with a soft plucking over-melody that was played during the resonance of the chords.

"Baby, sing me to sleep. Painful memories when you say that you need me. You save me from leaving things that I might need, but the missing piece is out of my reach. I don't mind if you can't be with me all of the time. So, be on your way. No, that is not what I wanted to say. I just want you, no, I need you to stay."

Ace let out a soft hum of content and allowed Sabo's voice to wash over him. As usual, it caused a tingle to run down his spine, but it was muted due to the exhaustion he was feeling. He really... probably wouldn't last long.

But he just… wanted to hear Sabo. Hearing Sabo after coming back from class was one of the best times of the day. He actually really disliked falling asleep through his music... especially his new stuff.

"Baby, sing me to sleep. Drunken melodies when you say that you love me. Well, maybe I just need a guarantee, cuz the way you speak, you're scaring me. Well, I don't mind if you can't be with me all of the time. So be on your way. No, that is not what I wanted to say. I just want you, no I need you to stay."

The budding music artist changed up his rhythm going into the bridge, the speed a little bit different, and he could pick up Luffy in the background tapping his foot to the beat.

"And I know, I know, that it won't be long 'til you come a runnin' righting the wrongs, ignoring the light, swallow the fright, to make it in time to keep me safe tonight."

Ace's eyes slipped closed against his will, and he hurriedly blinked them open again at the change of speed. He rolled onto his side, blinking at Sabo tiredly, watching him. He smiled softly and curled closer.

The guitar slowed down considerably to put more emphasis on the next line, "Baby, sing me to sleep. No apologies when you say that you love me. But I don't mind if you can't be with me all of the time. So be on your way. No, that is not what I wanted to say. I just want you, no I need you to stay."

When the last word hung in the air, the street performer gave a final pluck to his strings and let the sound die away on its own rather than silencing the instrument. Luffy had moved over to lean his head on the bed, watching them both with a certain soft smile. Sabo reached out and ruffled his hair before glancing at their third.

Ace managed a wide grin at the blond. When he spoke, his voice was slurred. "S'very good 'Bo. It'll def'nately be... the one..."

He barely managed to finish what he was saying before sleep took a hold of him and dragged him under.

Sabo smiled, shifting his hands on his guitar so he could reach out and smooth the oldest's hair too. His voice was soft, even though both brothers knew once Ace was under, even the crashing of a car outside the window wouldn't wake him.

"Thanks, D."

Several hours later, Ace had a very nice nap, one that wasn't plagued by any nasty dreams, and he managed to wake himself up. He really did like it when he could, because it felt... natural. For a few seconds, he could pretend he didn't have narcolepsy.

Except when he was still tired. Times like that sucked majorly. But at least this time he felt refreshed, and that made him happy, and he thought he really should show Sabo his appreciation for that amazing song.

The blond was still next to him, apparently he hadn't noticed that Ace was awake, and with a soft smirk, the brunet reach out and slid his fingers under the hem of Sabo's shirt and slowly slid down his body.

"Morning, Mr. Fingers, and where do you think you're going?" The blond snickered, shifting one page to the next over his head.

He was lying on his back, looking over the notes he'd made about that newest song. He wasn't sure about the bridge. It seemed off. But laying any other way hadn't given him any answers, so now he was stretched out, knees up, head practically at the edge of the bed, with the sheet music hovering above him thanks to one arm while he made notes with the other against his palm. His worn graphic tee rode up above the waist of his jeans high enough that his belly button was exposed, and the edges of his boxers peeked out on the South end.

"Mmmm I think you mean 'evening', 'Bo." Ace purred, voice still laced with sleep.

He trailed his fingers teasingly over the exposed skin, and he shifted down a little more so he could press his lips against it.

"And I want to show you just hoooow much I appreciate that song..."

"Mmm. Morning, evening, does it really matter all that much?" Sabo slid the leg closest to the brunette down so that he'd have an easier access, as he made another notation on his opposite wrist. "Oh, Luffy's buggered off by the way. Said something about finding a whale, so I'm assuming he's off to Brook's, or at least off to find a way to see Law."

The brunette let out a soft snort and licked a small stripe across Sabo's belly button, one of his hands moving to undo the button to Sabo's pants.

"Of course he's tryn' ta see Law... Don't blame him really, but still..." He nibbled on a small patch of skin with a soft hum.

The younger, by a month damnit, shivered, "You're gonna make me stop workin' aren't ya?"

"No one's makin' you do anything." Ace snickered and managed to get the button and zipper undone, and slipped his hand in to massage his length. "You can keep workin' all you like~"

"Nnghyeah, sure. I'll believe that when you aren't manhandling my junk like you want its attention." Sabo peeked out from under his music to smirk at the other. "It's attached you know."

"Oh of that I'm very aware." His lover smirked right back at him… and suddenly bit down on a patch of skin just under his belly button sucking hard, while his touch on Sabo's crotch suddenly became very firm.

"NGH!" All of his abs curled up in reaction to both stimuli, the papers flew over his head and his hands gripped the edge of the bed. "Holy shit, Ace!"

But the blond was laughing, if a bit strained from the sudden rush of blood to his nethers.

"Whaat~?" The other grinned up at him and licked at the rapidly darkening mark that he'd made, removing his hand. He gripped at Sabo's pants and boxers with both and purred, "Lift your hips a little."

The nimble guitarist did so, heat pooling in his groin, and the flesh stiff enough to bulge the fabric of his plaid boxers through the open fly of his jeans.

Ace tugged Sabo's pants down just enough to expose his length fully, and settled in between his legs with a low laugh. He wanted to tease him, but at the same time he just wanted Sabo to be reduced to a moaning, incoherent mess as quick as possible. Still grinning, Ace reached beneath the blond to grab a handful of each ass-cheek and swooped down to run his tongue across the underside of the heated length.

"AAANGH!"

Slender hips bucked into the air as all thought flew from Sabo's head. His toes curled in the blankets to either side of where his lover settled between his legs. The muscles of his lower stomach fluttered and his dick only got harder from the direct stimulation.

Trying to contain his laugh—he did so love Sabo's reactions—Ace took his time licking around the base and running his tongue over his balls, sucking absently and nipping at the sensitive skin. Removing one hand from Sabo's ass, the brunet circled his fingers tightly around the base of his cock and trailed his lips all the way to the tip where he wasted no time in taking the head into his mouth and sucked harshly.

All that the blond could do was pant and moan, bucking—or at least trying to—into the other's mouth, needing more! Damn him, his ability to take him apart like that! It just wasn't fair! In any sense of the word! And if he could've thought more clearly, Sabo would have been promising himself to sick Luffy on the sexy narcoleptic!

Ace simply kept sucking on the head of Sabo's cock for a few moments, delighting in the taste that was purely Sabo, while he slowly worked his hand up and down the blond's length, his grip tight. Relaxing his throat, the brunet began to take in more of him bit by bit, and hummed softly in delight and looked up at Sabo, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Nnnnngh!" Propping himself up on his elbows, the guitarist's eyes crossed hard when Ace's nose met his tangled bush, and then the bastard swallowed! Not fair!

Now that Sabo's length was comfortably situated in his mouth and throat, the other returned his hand to its place gripping Sabo's ass… hard. He swallowed a couple of times, getting properly used to the feel of it again, before drawing back a little, and sinking back down.

He wouldn't be able to take too many of those. Every time his lover's nose met his groin, Sabo's balls drew up, the shaft twitched, and heavy drops of precome leaked from his tip into the brunette's throat. His chest heaved with panting moans, and his normally crystal clear eyes were blown cloudy with desire.

'Come on, 'Bo...' The brunet thought and his body shook with a laugh. He decided that he'd keep doing this, at this same torturous pace, until Sabo came hard. Again and again and again...

Twice. That's all the more it took. And Sabo was throwing his head back, spine arched into the sucking pressure that felt like it was drawing his seed straight from his gonads, like a direct connection between Ace's mouth and his core. God DAMN that man was good at this! The blond whimpered with the force of it, quiet contrast to the window-rattling moans from before.

His lover held himself steady through Sabo's orgasm, humming softly and swallowing to help him along. He released his tight hold on the blond's ass and gently ran his hands up and down his sides, before pulling back and licking him clean.

Grinning in satisfaction, he purred, "Good?"

"God... damn... sexy... ass..." The other panted, limp-limbed and noodle-jointed across what had been his working space.

Snickering softly to himself, Ace crawled up Sabo's body, not bothering to tidy him back up, and lay down on top of him. Planting a kiss on the blond's jaw, he murmured, "That I am~"

With a great heaving effort, the guitarist flopped them both over so he could capture the artist by the mouth with a laugh.

There was a yelp at the sudden change of position, but the older man didn't flail. He clutched at the back of Sabo's shirt tightly and moaned into the kiss.

"I swear, D," Sabo nipped at his lover's bottom lip, "you're a nympho on top of the other stuff."

The brunet hummed and shivered, then slid his hands down the blond's back and underneath his shirt to caress the skin. "N-nympho? Naah... 'M not that bad..."

"Sure you are. Cuz you aren't gonna let me get back to my song until I screw your brains out. And you know it." The blond bit the underside of his lover's chin, growling playfully.

Ace's breath hitched in his throat and he tilted his head back to give Sabo more access. "H-hehehe, d-do I know it? I dun' think so..." He squirmed against the blond and wrapped his legs around his waist. "May just have'ta pound it int'a me maybe?"

"Uh huh... that's sorta the plan." The next bite was just above the brunet's pulse point, and hands with nimble calluses found the darker man's skin, skipping fire around the edge of his shorts.

The painter let out a shuddering breath and shifted a little, a large grin stretching across his lips. "'S-sorta' huh? Mind... explainin'?"

"Nnnope!" Sabo snickered, biting down on the cord of muscle that connected neck to shoulder and sucked hard while grinding his re-awakening hard-on against the bulge in the brunet's shorts.

"Anghg..." Ace hissed and bucked up against the blond. "Y-you're being a tease..."

"Says the one that insisted on sucking me off when I was trying to work."

Working his hands up, the guitarist ducked over his lover's shirt to follow the pattern of biting onto the rise of pectoral muscle over his heart, sucking again to make a bruise blossom under his lips, and then in the natural path to one of two red jasper studded bars pierced through Ace's nipples. He bit one, drinking in the delicious gasp, and then the other, before returning to the bruise to make it darker.

"I-I wasn't teasing jus' thanking you..." The brunet groaned softly, slightly out of breath, and brought one of his hands up to grip Sabo's hair. "Bein' mean, 'Bo..."

"You love it."

Sabo shimmied the other's shirt up, taking his mouth for a deep kiss as soon as the fabric was above his pouting lips. He moaned, linking their hands together so that Ace was temporarily blinded by his own clothing.

He did. He really, really did. Love it that was.

Ace whined when his vision was taken from him, but he squeezed Sabo's hands kissing him back with fervor. He tightened his legs around him and ground up into him, his motions becoming a little desperate.

He had to let him go, but having his often needier lover under him like this was just delicious, the feeling of him squirming had Sabo's veins singing. He released one hand to flick open the fly beneath him so he could wrap the same hand around both of their shafts, pulling with a tiny twist that squeezed them together perfectly. He couldn't help but moan, he'd always been vocal unconsciously, even when it was his own touch.

Ace's breath caught in his throat, and he let out a loud, pleading moan. His groin tightened and the hot, simmering pleasure surged through his veins, and he bit down on Sabo's lip by accident—hard.

The blond didn't seem to notice, mounting his second orgasm quickly. His rhythm sped up and stuttered the closer he got, crying and whining for it against Ace's mouth.

Moving his hand back up to clutch tightly at Sabo's hair, the narcoleptic gasped for breath when he released his lover's lip. He tasted just a hint of copper—must have broken the skin—and vowed in the back of his head to make it up to Sabo again later. Later. Much later on, after this, after... after they come...

Ace let out a needy whimper as the coil in his gut tightened abruptly, and then shattered and his body seized up, tugging Sabo's hair tightly and splattering his seed across his stomach and the blond's hand.

It only took a pull or two before Sabo was following him, hot and shuddering, the mess dripping between his fingers onto the brunette's stomach. His hand rubbed at them until they'd both stopped spasming, their hearts beating hard, and then he pulled away onto his heels to grab his own shirt from his own shoulders to mop them both up with. He was trembling in afterglow while he did it though, tracing the dips and curves of Ace's hips and abs and playing with his belly button ring. He held himself upright with the other arm in spite of the protest in his muscles.

Ace lay there, breathing heavily and dazed, trembling under Sabo's touch. Not bothering to move from his current position, he blinked up at Sabo dazedly and licked his lips, again tasting the copper, and his eyes fell to the small cut on the blond's mouth.

The brunet wondered whether that'd be a valid reason to go see Law... Probably not... But then again, they did have all night to come up with one.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **Song: Lullaby - Julia Nunes


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Okay, so the format over here is a little bit different because of the way FF doesn't let us link fics together. So this is both Stay With Me and Never Surrender in one fic, as it was going to be originally. I hope it doesn't get too confusing for you guys. Lemme know if it does, I'll try to sort it out.

Once again Zoro is voiced by my wonderful mate, Silva, and Beta'd by my amazing kouhai, Harley.

* * *

><p>"You're a shitty bastard and you fucking suck." Sanji grumbled, shifting the ice pack slightly to rest a little more comfortably on his eye.<p>

He hurt. His ribs, his head, his arms, his legs, everywhere! He was pretty sure his entire body was one solid bruise. The shiner developing under the ice pack was threatening to cut off his vision, and worst of all he wasn't allowed to smoke. Yeah, yeah, that would only have made things worse, but it was the principle of the thing. He wasn't allowed. And not just because he and the shitty mossbrain were seated in one of the exam rooms at Four Blues Community General either! The nurse—the beautiful, stunning, articulate, immaculate, angelic, nurse—who'd taken his x-rays said that until he spoke with Dr. Trafalgar he wouldn't even be allowed to go outside and smoke. He needed to make sure the bones weren't actually broken.

And thank God for binders that only had metal on the zipper.

He hadn't had to take it off to get his x-rays done, which meant he hadn't had to try and wiggle back into it so that the marimo wouldn't notice. The last thing he needed was that idiot douchebag thinking of him as a girl! He wasn't a girl goddamnit! Anyone who thought so deserved the whatever-it-was he'd done to the asshole's thick skull. He was perfectly justified, as far as he was concerned.

His good eye slid over to the bastard, leaned back in his chair, neither one of them willing to get up on the bed, and on opposite sides of the room. They were just far enough apart that he could shove at Zoro's foot with his own.

So he did, with a tired growl.

Zoro shoved back, equally tired and growling in return, as he gave himself yet another pinch on the arm. His head felt fit to split at the temples and the nurse was positive he had a concussion, so he was under strict 'no napping' orders until he'd been given a once over. And an MRI, which they hadn't done yet because someone else was in it. She had also tentatively suggested his eye socket might be busted, which would be a bitch because they couldn't even splint that. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and try to escape the throbbing with a nice nap… and he wasn't allowed.

When the door opened, Zoro's eyes snapped up—and then he winced.

Law had had the day from Hell. Uncooperative patients, a constant stream of threatening injuries that needed IMMEDIATE attendance, he'd been kicked in the chest—_twice!_—by a brat of a child who didn't want the crayon broken off in his nose touched, and the icing on this ten-hour shift out of the bowels of Satan's digestive tract was the fucking coffee machine was broken and the others were out of stock.

He was about ready to kill someone and LOOKED like it as he stomped over to the green-haired idiot—who was in here for the third time this week—and yanked him up by his pierced ear to march him over to the door and the waiting, snickering, orderly.

"MRI room, concussion symptoms and possible broken facial bones, make sure there's no internal bleeding or intracranial pressure, if he needs a bore hole I want to fucking know BEFORE he loses half of his precious pair of brain cells," he said as he handed him over none too kindly and spun to glower at his other patient.

"You, on the table, ditch the shirt, if your ribs are broken or cracked I have to be sure your lungs are alright and I need to put this stethoscope directly on your skin, anything on your torso take it off unless it's _imbedded_ in your skin."

He didn't look like someone to argue with; there were circles so dark they could have been black makeup under his eyes, his hair was in ragged disarray, his expression was haggard and worn, and his mostly dark skin seemed to have a pallor underneath that came part and parcel with aches and aggravation. His gaze was sharp, focused like an eagle or a hawk. The set of his mouth, downturned at the corners and bitten raw where it was clear he used his teeth to stop his words, spoke to his no-nonsense demeanor. His scrubs were immaculate bright yellow, painting him a member of the ER staff, though he wore a standard physician's coat over them. The snakebites and tattooed DEATH across the fingers of both hands was a little rebellious, but in a good way as far as Sanji was concerned, and having both ears pierced with rainbow-hued plugs just the size of the pad of his index finger made him wonder if the doctor's earlobes were sensitive. But what really caught the cook's attention, what drew him in like a moth to a flame, was the pattern of pearly spots splashed across one cheek and part of his nose. Often vitiligo could make a person look unnaturally painted, like someone had smacked the person with a paintbrush. But this… even under the heavy glower, was breath-taking. A mottling of color that looked no different than patterns of spots on a well-bred Great Dane or a wild snow leopard.

It made Sanji want to know how far the spots went, and whether he could taste the different colors of skin.

Then he realized the doctor had caught him staring!

He blanched, nearly dropping the ice pack. "You... uh... must be Law?"

Climbing to his feet with barely a look at the departing Zoro, he set the blessed bag of frozen water on the table next to the bed. Tie and jacket already on the arm of the chair behind him, he was quick to bring his hands to his buttons. But he hesitated for a moment. Doctors weren't supposed to be judgmental, and there were laws protecting his private information from being spread around, but that was little comfort when such knowledge could affect his employment opportunities, regardless of the consequences he could bring down on the physician.

"Um..." He winced again when the glower only deepened at his pause. "I just... could you shut the door?"

The doctor paused in his glowering scowl. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

He turned to it and shut it quietly, gratified to see Zoro already being bundled down the hallway, and locked it. Patient privacy was not something he meant to let lapse, but it had been a long shift and he still had a few hours to go. And lack of coffee. Oh gods what he would give for coffee right now. He let his forehead lean against the door for a minute like it would somehow help his headache and then straightened up to get a proper look at the x-rays, or at least get them up on the board while his patient finished disrobing so he could double check for cracks or breaks.

"And yes," he realized belatedly he'd never answered the first question, "I'm Law. Trafalgar D. Water Law. I would say it's a pleasure but you caught me on a bad night, Mr. Noir."

"Sanji. If it's all the same." He finished unbuttoning his shirt and laid it across the arm of the chair with his jacket and tie, and almost started to pull his binder off when the movement caught and he hissed loudly. "_Merde!_"

Law was there in just seconds, shoving his hand away and taking the zipper's tab himself. "Don't strain yourself; I swear to God I get the stubborn ones on my shift! No, no I'll do it, Jesus Christ if you have a broken rib that could puncture something! Don't TWIST for the love of every fucking deity!"

"You said to take it off! You look exhausted! I'm not being stubborn, I'm doing what you told me to—oh fine!" The blond huffed, letting the doctor manhandle him. "And it's not broken. I know broken. At worst I've bruised the bones, which is a bitch, but it won't kill me."

He got the binder off and winced at the red-raw skin beneath as he put it on top of his shirt.

"I sincerely hope it's not bruised, but I'm going to listen to your lungs anyway," the brunet said as he pulled the stethoscope up to his ears. "There's always a chance of fluid buildup, especially in smokers. And... I'm sorry to be short and testy. I'm meaner than hell when I haven't had coffee, and our break room pot is broken and all the machines for patients' families are being restocked. There's not a drop of caffeine in the entire hospital."

Sanji deliberately didn't look down at what Law was doing with his chest. Though that was more psychological than anything else. The shape clearly betrayed just how long he'd been binding and discolorations around both sides of his ribcage spoke of years where he hadn't been doing it safely. He wasn't entirely sure where to put his hands, so when the brunet moved around to the back, he crossed his arms over the offensive sacks of fat.

"Is your night at least almost over?"

"Yes, in... an hour and a half," Law replied absently around listening the other's breathing—clear of fluid, but definitely a smoker's lungs, which on principle he hated to hear.

The breast tissue had no damage or even bruising aside from that which came from binding, so he didn't pay that much attention as he came around and picked the x-rays back up to put on the board. Both showed what he'd hoped not to see, dark spots within the borders of the bone, and he winced.

"Yeah, it's cracked and bruised. No marrow leakage," he traced the bone's outline, "which is great, it'll heal much faster, but the pain is going to really be nasty for a while. I'll write you a mild prescription for Tramadol, that'll make it easier to function, but I can't recommend anything constrict your ribs or this could easily turn into a full-fledged break."

He glanced at the binder and turned to Sanji.

"Do you have any looser binders? Putting that much pressure on this rib is a bad idea with how tight that one is."

"I... think I know where I can borrow one."

The cook flipped his hair to the other side of his face to cover the bruise around his eye and cringed at the x-rays. His brother was going to beat his head in for this; he could hear the older chef's rant now. So, instead of following that line of thought, he tilted his head coyly to the side and smiled.

"I know it's probably unethical, but when you get off, would you wanna grab a drink? I know a great little cafe not too far from here, there's a street musician too, always sets up right in front of the tables. Next to my own, it's the best coffee in the city."

Law paused in taking down the x-rays, glancing over at him questioningly. "They'll be open this late?"

He finished putting them back in the folder and leaned on the counter, honestly considering it. After all, it wasn't like he was _unavailable_.

"...I will agree, but only on the condition that by the time you come back here to meet me for the walk to the cafe you have already gotten into the looser binder. As a doctor I cannot in good conscience let you take me out in that one," he pointed to the offensive binder lying innocently on the chair.

Sanji chuckled ruefully. "I don't think I _could_ get back into that one. Not until some of the swelling goes down at least. But it's a deal. And yeah. Koala's open nearly twenty fours. I think Old Man Hack only closes the shop for like two hours around four a.m. Didn't much think of the time though. Guess it is kinda late for some folks."

He rubbed the back of his neck, the swelling in his bruised cheek making his smile lopsided.

"Growing up in a restaurant messes with your sense of 'late' and 'early'."

The brunet put the ice pack back in his hand and gently pulled it up to his swollen cheek. "So does being an ER doc. I'll have nights I walk out of here at three in the morning and I'm surprised there are no cabs or buses or diners open. Your eye, by the way, will have a spectacular shiner in the next twenty four hours, but the swelling will go down and there's only bruising as far as the damage runs. And it's a deal then."

"You have talented hands, doc. I feel better already." Oh, what his father would say if he could hear him now! Shameless flirt! And the blond was loving every minute of it. "See you in an hour and half."

Law shook his head and clicked his tongue, but he also cracked a smile for the first time since clocking in. "Yeah, yeah, see you in an hour and a half. Now excuse me while I tend to Luffy's regular idiot. He hasn't even got his stitches out and he's already back, I swear to god I'll chain him to a hospital bed if he keeps on like this. I'm sick of him in my ER!"

Sanji couldn't help it, the curl of disdain for the green-haired man cut through his good mood, "He asked for it."

He hopped off the bed and started pulling his shirt back on. He couldn't exactly make everything look _right_ per say, but he could at least cover up with the layers if he left the jacket unbuttoned and used a bigger tie knot than his standard half-Windsor. The binder he folded up and tucked into the small of his back where the shirt and jacket both covered it. Out of the way, protected, invisible, and safe should anyone try anything between here and his brother's apartment. Hopefully the man would be there at least long enough for him to get what he needed and leave without too many questions being asked.

"He's always asking for it. Idiot can't help it, I suppose. I mean really. Most people when they see a knife in somebody's hand move either away or to get rid of the weapon. Who fucking THROWS themselves onto the knife to keep it away from the person he's protecting?! I'd call him suicidal if I didn't know he has goals he's determined to reach," the other complained grumpily, and sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "Then again he knows how Nami gets about extortionists."

"Hmm. How's she feel about misogynists?" The cook muttered, pulling his jacket a little harder than necessary to straighten it.

"She usually puts them in my ER," Law replied blandly. "That is if Zoro doesn't throw them out first. Which he tries to, because Nami is one frightening woman when she is angry."

"Most females are." There was more to that sentence but he left it hanging in the air, the blond's choice of words specific. Then he flashed another winning smile. "I'd gather if you know her well, she undoubtedly trusts you to help instill the message that they're wrong, ne?"

The brunet raised an eyebrow. "Oh no. She trusts me to stitch them back up so they live to learn their lesson about thinking of women as lesser. And she also trusts me not to tell where they needed to get stitches or perhaps how many valuables seem to have gone missing from their persons." He smiled a bit wickedly as his black eyes gleamed. "However, we need to put that aside a moment; as I understand it, from the way it sounds in the notes," he picked up the clipboard to flip to them, "it seems you were provoked into a fight by Zoro? I'm required to ask if you'd like to press charges and if you'd like the documentation of your injuries in case you'd like to take him to court. Would you?"

"Yes, I was, and no, the stupid, mossbrain," Sanji deleted several expletives from that description, "should've learned his lesson. And if he's in jail, I can't make sure he has. Besides," he fiddled with his tie a little, a shadow crossing his face as he looked away for a minute, "police tend not to want to help people like me."

The same shadow crossed Law's face before he shook his head. "Yes, I'm aware, and it's bullshit, but I am required to ask. Though I'm not sure what lesson he was supposed to learn by having his skull kicked in. He's barely got two brain cells to rub together, you know. Fight and sleep."

The blond laughed, chasing away the darkness, "Oh I'd gathered that much. He didn't even _ask_ how I fight before jumping into it. Of course, even if he had I wouldn't have held back, but it's a really stupid move to challenge a Gold Glove Savate practitioner."

He didn't like bragging but... well, if it made him look better to the doc, what was the harm? And if Law knew Luffy, then Law knew _about_ Luffy, and as such Sanji was banking on him knowing the fact that a busted eye socket and a concussion was the _least_ of what the cook could have done to the muscleheaded idiot. He'd like to say he'd been holding back, but he could say that the last strike was unplanned and a reaction to his own injury instead of a deliberate move. It actually worried him a little, not much because he was confident in his skills, but a little. He _hadn't_ been holding back. He'd been going all out. Granted the mossball was mostly defending himself, but still. He'd been able to take everything Sanji had thrown at him until the cheap shots at the end, where the bastard had tricked him into going down because of the one part of his body where he was weakest.

"Oh he'll be so proud to know he went against someone the best in their style. That's his favorite pastime after all." The doc said dryly, then stopped and blinked. Then, he amended, "Actually don't tell him, he'll be after you to spar with him _constantly_. And I'll have to keep patching you two up. Anyway, you're all good, here are your discharge papers, and now I have to see to the mossball idiot's prescription. God, I hate having to give him pain meds. Something in his system... ah, that's—well, I'm sure that's not something you care about anyway," he gave Sanji a little hand flutter, shooing him. "You go on and get that looser binder and get comfortable again, Mr. Sanji. I'll meet you after my shift."

"Count on it." The blond took his papers and gave the doctor a wink on his way to the front desk to sign out.

In another room, Zoro held the ice against his face, scowling at the images on the desk waiting for Law. Broken eye socket and a definite concussion! None of his other bones seemed to be bruised, cracked, or broken though, which he was glad for… taking injuries out of a simple block would have been humiliating on a personal level. Still, constant monitoring and—he winced when moving his bad eye, which was already dim and a pain in the ass, made the whole side of his head throb. Fucking. Peachy.

The laughter of his best friend and technical boss was _not_ helping, especially because the bouncy brat kept shifting from sitting to leaning on the desk to pacing. "You know, you should've seen your face right before Sanji clocked you in the jaw! Priceless! Better than that time Usopp got you in the groin! Remember? With the mock AK he suped up! It was AWESOME! You and Sanji should spar more often. You're a good match!"

"Luffy…" he gritted his teeth with his eyes closed, ice pressed a little too hard against his face, "why are you here again? Other than to poke at me and keep me awake because we both know that's not the real reason?"

"Ace went down on Sabo when he woke up from his nap." The position the younger man was currently in had him hanging off of the chair upside down, his feet on the wall, and attempting to balance a tongue depressor between his lips and his nose. "I don't mind, I just didn't wanna be there and not involved. Messes with my concentration and I was in the middle of trying to beat OP Red Unlimited. Y'know that one fighting game where you can beat up the marines and stuff?"

"I've heard of it. I guess there's even a villain that lets you kick people when they're down, which sounds like a pretty fun game, and I can see why you'd bounce if you weren't involved. Those two usually do go at it like rabbits after all," Zoro sighed, leaning his good cheek in his hand and wincing again. "Did you get far on it?"

"About to beat up some asshole named Kurohige. Reminds me of that guy from POTC, the one with the government that branded Jack for saving the slaves. But he's tough as hell! Gonna take at _least_ another round to kick his ass." Luffy dropped the tongue depressor and he looked up at the other man, "So how long were you guys out there anyway? I went up to Sabo after dinner, and it was like... two hours or something when Ace crashed out. Finally." The last word had a dark growl under it, betraying his worry over his brother's sleeping habits. "When I came back down was right before Nami opened the door. Should'a told me you were sparring. I'd've joined in! He's like wicked strong!"

"To be honest, I think I pushed him too hard and got a real fight instead of a spar," the bouncer said ruefully, with a gesture to his eye. "He came at me like I was a training dummy or punching bag, didn't hold back at ALL. But it was great," he smirked, "I can hardly wait to do it again!"

The captain laughed again, somersaulting onto his feet with a small bounce, "That's awesome! I wanna get a chance at him. If he can throw you across the lot like that, I wanna feel it!"

"I'm sure he will if you ask him to," Zoro replied dryly, wincing again and rubbing his temples. Ugh, he'd give his left nipple to make this headache go away!

Just then the door flew open, not quite banging off of the wall behind it, but certainly loud enough to convey the message the man in front of it wanted to get across. He spared the enthusiastic brunet a long-suffering, but slightly grateful, look, and the Rubberman bounced his way out.

"Catch ya later, Zoro!"

Undoubtedly, he'd find someone to pester until Law could meet him after his shift was over. The doctor made a mental note to inform the youngest of his boyfriends he was going on a date. He knew it wouldn't be a problem, but announcing to a potential partner that they had to share him with three other men was a little much to take in on the first date. It wasn't that he was particularly secretive about it. He was just wise enough to know that polyamory was something that needed to be discussed at a time when he wasn't severely caffeine deprived and Sanji wasn't hopped up on pain killers. And it was just coffee. No matter how pretty the blond was, there was no guarantee there would be anything after this.

As such he turned to his patient, "You had better not have popped your stitches, Mr. Roronoa. I'm not fixing you up a third time this week for the same injury all because you let a pair of gorgeous legs and a smart mouth get the better of your temper."

Zoro coughed. "I... don't think any popped?" he offered with a half-smile, voice nervous. "And I don't even know what I said to piss him off so much, but HE started on ME when I was badgering Nami about the pay grade, I was hoping she'd be able to find SOME loophole. Fucking landlord raised the rent again."

"The way Chopper told it makes me wonder if he has a history with sexism." The dark doctor carefully protected his first patient's confidentiality, while advancing on the other one. "Now off with the shirt, I know you better than to believe you let anyone check your laceration before I got here."

Mouth curling out in a pout as he pulled his shirt over his head, the green-haired man grumbled. "Dammit. Fiiine..."

Yep. Two stitches popped, right in the vent where he'd taken a hit.

Law tsk'd, once for each stitch, and poked the blossoming bruise next to it under the guise of checking for infection drainage. "I'll have to redo them both. Up on the bed. You know I hate working bent over."

Zoro groaned, but climbed up to plant his ass on that hard seating, wincing at the poking and glaring. He had an assorted collection of bruises steadily darkening all over his torso. He looked like a purple leopard.

The brunet gave an appreciatively drawn out whistle.

"You look almost as spotty as I do. Good job." His tone dripped with entertained sarcasm as he moved over to the cabinet on the wall to gather his materials. "And your landlord is a dick. You need to move. I believe I make the fourth person to say that to you." He turned back to the bouncer with an expression that was as close to sympathy as he got after a day like today, "Why do you not take Luffy up on his offer?"

Zoro winced. "I really don't think it could... uhm, I don't think getting drawn into your guys' relationship would be something I'd do well at, and you know Luffy, Ace and Sabo. If I moved in with them, something would start up with someone, and all for one and one for all, y'know... and I'm okay with that part, really I am, I just... I don't think I'd include everyone as much as I'd want to, I'd get frustrated, and I really don't want bad feelings. Not to mention I'd go nuts with Luffy bouncing around the house all the time and wind up stomping off to look for a new apartment with everyone fuming. I wanna move, I'm looking for a place, but I just can't move in with Luffy and them."

As much as he was loath to admit it about his beloveds, the other had a point, which Law conceded with a nod, "True. As attractive as you are, Zoro, I have to say that you and I would be a poor match. All for one and one for all, and all that. There. Now let me see your eye."

The doctor sat back, wrapping the whole bundle of gauze, used needle, snipped thread, and paper drape into the ball of his gloves to be disposed of in the sharps/biohazard container on the wall. A new pair of gloves and he was pulling his pen light out of his pocket to check the reflection on the back of Zoro's retina. His other hand steadied his patient's chin with a firm but gentle grip, carefully avoiding the discoloration of the skin where Sanji's shoe had left its imprint.

"So, why not Usopp or Franky? I know they might not be the best of long-term roommates, but it would be something closer to the Sunny and away from your landlord. Until you found a new permanent place."

"They're inventing at all hours of the night, when would I sleep? No, they're out, especially since I intimidate Usopp and sometimes Franky has Robin back to his place. I'm a pretty persnickity assholish roommate. I couldn't stand the grease and oil stains," Zoro admitted with a sheepish smile that was only on his good side.

"I know personally better than to suggest Chopper or myself. Or any of the girls." Law snickered at him, clicking the pen light off, and sitting back. "What about Brook?"

"I... maybe. Aren't all his rooms rented? I know he and I get along most of the time..."

"Last I heard his basement was open." With a pop of his spine, the brunet's eyes darted to the clock on the wall, and pulled his script-pad from his pocket. "I'm guessing we have to go with Dilaudid again if we're gonna get any pain relief at all for you, aren't we?" His tone carried the weight of how much paperwork that would entail, but the certainty that nothing less would work for his friend. "The Vicoden did nothing last time, right?"

The bouncer winced again, he hated being trouble for his friend. "Ah... yeah. I really wish it did, Law, I really do, but... it did about what an aspirin does: nothing. I'm sorry, man. I'll look into Brook's basement," he promised.

"Yeah," Law waved him off, already writing out the prescription. "You're better than trying to dose the Pink Bastard." He tore the sheet off the pad and held it out, but didn't let go right away. "Standard bone procedure. Let Franky handle tossing assholes for at least two weeks. No punches to the face. Call me or Chopper if you get spots, blurred edges, stars, dizziness not connected to the meds, or memory loss. Don't sleep until after you talk to Brook tonight. You got a way to get there, or do you need my cell?"

"I can walk, I know my way from here," Zoro asserted, pouting again. Throwing them out the door was his favorite part dammit!

"Uh huh, last time I let you tell me that you wound up back here a couple of hours later with a busted nose." The doctor was laughing at him, quietly, while he dug his cell phone out of his back pocket. "Here, call Usopp. He'll be done with the show by now, and Nami's gonna want to make sure you don't get lost again."

Though Zoro's infamous sense of no-direction was usually the butt of all of their nakama's jokes, he really did have a point. Technically, no matter how fast the bushido bouncer healed, he was still concussed and risked passing out if left entirely on his own. At the same time though, the brunet knew he wouldn't take kindly to the industry standard approach for such situations, and he certainly wouldn't appreciate more of the mothering attitude all of the ER nurses and orderlies tended to take with concussion patients. Which was why the long-nosed jack-of-all-trades was the best choice. Zoro could intimidate him into shutting up and Usopp's sharp eye for detail would still be able to keep close watch on him for trouble. His accuracy with a rifle wasn't the only thing the dark man could zero in on.

The green-head sighed, but took the phone and dialed him up. "Thanks. One day, when I've been there long enough to earn actual money, I'll pay you back for all the bullshit you go through for us. I swear, Law—Usopp, yeah, can you pick me up from the ER? I got a concussion again, m'not allowed to walk to your place. Yeah, stitches too. No, he hasn't clouted me; he didn't have to, had a blond bastard kick me in the face for him and break my eye socket. No, no, the bad side. Yes, the bruising is all over, yes I'll let you sketch it. Fine. Just come get me, sniperboy," he growled, hanging up.

Law snickered a bit louder, moving over to pull the discharge papers from the file, and jotting down a few notes for the medical assistant that was going to be organizing everything for him. He kept one eye on his patient, the other kept drawing his attention to the clock. He'd spent a good forty-five minutes with Zoro. Ordinarily, no, that was a long time to spend on one ER patient, but frankly, the hospital board could suck his dick for all he cared at the moment. His official shift was supposed to have been over four hours ago! And that was just because he'd agreed to cover for Drake! He hadn't originally been scheduled at all! AND WITH NO COFFEE! So, less than two hours away from the end of second shift period, he could spend as much time as he felt was necessary with his patients and everyone else could just piss off.

It surprised him a little how much he was looking forward to the date, and without his knowledge a certain smile pulled up the corners of his mouth as he wondered if that 'street musician' would be there too. That would be entertaining to say the very least. And at that, the image of the two blonds in the same bed at the same time shot straight through his spine. Oh that was pretty!

Zoro recognized it.

"Meetin' Luffy after work, Law?" He gently bumped shoulders with him, grinning a little bit lopsidedly as he tried to distract himself valiantly from the throb in his head.

"No, actually." The other resolutely did _not _jump when the silent bouncer appeared next to him the same way his father always did. Therefore the breath he took to school his features was born of exhaustion, not to calm his thumping heart! Still, he glared sarcastically down at him, "NRE if you must know, and the possibility that coffee may become something more. One for all, as you said."

The bouncer nodded and gave him a friendly squeeze to the shoulder, careful to moderate his strength. "Best of luck to ya, then. You guys could use at least one more level head."

"Why thank you, Zoro, but I fear even if all of the level heads in our nakama got together, we still wouldn't out weigh Luffy alone, nevermind adding Ace into the mix." His dark eyes sparkled with the affection he held for his partners, no matter how irritating they could be. He offered the discharge papers, "Here you are, check in with Vivi at the desk, and I'll take a look at you again tomorrow at the Sunny. Chopper will want to know what you did."

Zoro wilted and sighed. "Do we have to tell him? Again? But alright, I'll check in with Vivi..."

Law didn't answer, he merely smiled with the promise that if the green-haired man didn't tell their friend, he was going to, and they both knew that wouldn't end well for anyone. They didn't know where he got it, but when it came to his nakama's health the little seventeen-year-old could suplex even Franky into submission. With the right motivation, Chopper appeared to be physically stronger than literally any of them put together. Though whether that was because nobody could stand to hurt the kid or because he was just as strange and weird as the rest of them was uncertain. All that mattered was that if he didn't get told about the outcome of what had happened between Zoro and Sanji, the soon-to-be doctor would make sure both cook and bouncer remembered it.

"Nghaaaaa... oh alright. I'll tell him," the patient grumped, collecting his jacket and his bag of ice, since that was all he could use until his prescription was filled. "Enjoy your date. And do I hope that 'street performer' does 'just happen' to be playing right when your shift gets off. Maybe he'll even have a coffee too hot for him to drink he's willing to share," he teased good-naturedly.

The doctor let himself be glad of that, especially as the discharge had taken another fifteen minutes. He gave an honest smile about it, and waved his goodbye over his shoulder as they parted ways; Zoro heading for the front desk, Law for his office to burn the last thirty minutes on paperwork. He had a hot blond he didn't want to keep waiting.


	4. 4 October

**A/N:** My beloved Silva is Law here, and once again thanks to my wonderful kouhai, Harley, for beta-reading.

**Warnings:** smut in the form of blowjobs! And Law's voice. Hee hee hee. XD

Ja ne~!

* * *

><p>The paperwork took Law almost ten minutes overtime, and he was still struggling into his coat when he stomped outside, the heels of his boots clacking loudly on the sidewalk as he cursed himself inventively for losing track of the damn time. Again! Oh if he'd entirely blown it by making him wait, accidentally—dammit!<p>

He found said 'hot blond' leaning against the wall of the hospital, near where the staff parked their cars, smoking lazily. He'd completely changed his clothing, a band hoodie and more comfortable jeans over a pair of well-loved Converse sneakers. He gave the doctor a smile, snubbing out his cigarette in the provided ashtray. He exhaled to the side so that the toxic gas wouldn't be between them, and popped a mint in his mouth before pushing off the wall.

"Paperwork's a bitch, huh?"

Law smoothed back his hair and finally succeeded in putting his arm through the second sleeve of his coat with a lopsided smile. "Yes. Especially when you're deliberately writing slower and clearer than usual to make it cover the last half hour of your shift. I'm so sorry, I let the time get away with me, thank you for waiting. For all it's only been a couple hours, I've been looking forward to this since we set the date."

"Well, that makes the lecture from my brother worth it." Sanji grinned up at him; he'd always had a weakness for guys taller than him. He shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, and fell into an easy pace next to the doctor, "So, from what Nami was saying earlier, you're a musician too?"

"Yeah. I play piano and strum some guitar. I play sporadically sometimes, mostly I only use the guitar to help out a friend who composes so he can compare chords. Primarily I do accompaniment for the other guitarists and the singer in my group."

"Sounds like fun. You any good?"

"On the piano yes. I'm quite skilled on the piano."

"And your voice? Because just speaking it's sinful." The blond gave him a wink, hair over his shiner again.

The other grinned back playfully. "I've been told it doubles in dripping sin when I sing."

"Well, then that is certainly something I won't want to miss. If you're performing at the Sunny, I might just have to challenge you. Only two artists have been able to distract me from my job when they were on stage. Considering how you're able to make me sound like some hopeless over-the-top flirt without even trying, I almost worry for my culinary skills when you are trying."

"Then perhaps I should only perform when you AREN'T working," Law teased back. "Otherwise Luffy may decide to extract vengeance for interfering with his food, hm?"

"Is he really as bad as they say he is?" Sanji almost sounded worried, a nervous laugh accompanying their steps down the sidewalk.

"When it comes to food? Every bit. Or worse. He is a living black hole for food and consumes as much meat per day as a well-fed tiger as long as funding permits."

The cook laughed and shook his head. "I don't follow his career as closely as some of my uncles, but... they say he's crazy. I mean, he didn't seem that bad today, other than inhaling everything that wasn't nailed down. But... I guess if he's my new boss I should know something about him, yeah?"

"Oh." Law paused, curling his tongue against the roof of his mouth, hands shoving deep in his pockets. "He is perfectly of sound mind, if rather protective of his brothers, nakama, and partners," he said carefully. "In the ring, his habit is to fight aggressively but also defensively, he refuses to let himself get hit if he can help it, which is how he earned the nickname 'Rubberman'. He may fight semi-instinctively, but I can assure you that in no area of his life, personal, professional, or public, is he 'crazy'."

"I... I didn't... it wasn't... I don't think he's... wow, some date I am." Sanji drew his hand through his hair with a sigh. "I'm sorry. Lemme start over."

There was a small space between them now, and the blond could feel himself trying to hunch away from the sexy doctor as he mentally berated himself for letting his mouth get away from him. He'd actually been comfortable with Law until just then. Fuck, he was such a spazz. The other probably thought he was some psychopath or something, only interested because of Law's connection to the bar. Maybe even a rabid groupie, in spite of his attempt to downplay his question. Really, he'd only asked because he knew Patty and Carne would when the Baratie docked at Loguetown on Sunday.

"No, no, you would be... surprised how often I get the question, considering I'm his league-registered doctor. People often accost me after watching him fight to be sure the public is 'safe from him' and other such questions." The brunet inclined his head and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "The answer is more or less rote by now so people won't ask again."

"I... actually didn't know that. Like I said, my uncles, they're bigger into that whole scene than I am. I used to be, but Luffy wasn't a big name when I was competing, and I never got any further than our supposed hometown."

The blond tried to squash his remaining nerves, and took the appearance of the cafe, a collection of patrons hanging outside even at that late hour, as a boon of good fortune. He donned his public persona with well-practiced ease and executed a small turn to open the door for his date.

Though he raised an eyebrow, Law went first, chuckling at the other's theatrics. "Thank you ever so much, kind sir," he teased with a tilt of his hat.

Sanji drifted in after him, all smiles again, the slip of mask seemingly long-forgotten as he slid up to the counter to take the barista's hand. He clutched it to his cheek, "Koala, my pet, you must help me! You see I have brought a poor soul in dire need of your delicious, life-giving coffee." Just as quickly, he moved back to Law's side, "Just look at him, deprived! All day! Only your beautiful skills can save him~!"

The short, brown-haired girl laughed brightly at the cook's antics. "Oh no! Whatever shall we do!? He needs our finest espresso STAT!"

The black-haired man laughed and rubbed at his face to emphasize his eye bags. Then he leaned against Sanji's shoulder lightly, and grasped his chest, putting as much drama into his voice as he could, "At LEAST a double my fine fellow doctor, and I cannot tell you how it will save my life."

"A double and a half for my ailing patient, and your usual, Sanji hun?" Koala laughed more, smiling brighter. Somehow.

"You always know just what to serve, my darling! Make it soy and almond this time though." The blond man slipped his hand across his stomach and ribs covertly on his way to making the appearance of keeping his date on his feet.

She gave a short nod, and moved down the short counter to start the process on both of their drinks. In the middle of pouring almond milk into the steamer, she looked over her shoulder at the two, "Sabo's in the back, Law, did you want me to get 'im? Think he was picking through treats for that sleepy boy of his."

The brunet man snickered. "Maybe. I was considering performing with him a bit tonight."

His eyes flicked to Sanji and back to Koala. Sanji did not know, and he wasn't saying anything yet. It was a little much to lay on someone at first.

"Sabo?" Sanji blinked. "Luffy's Sabo? The one that lives with him? Helps at the Sunny? That Sabo?"

Koala was quick on the uptake, which was why she'd phrased it like that, and she gave Law an acknowledging nod as she put his double on the counter in front of him since it didn't take as long as Sanji's caramel mocha. Especially on high-nerves nights. Within the privacy of her own head, she sighed at all of the unspoken language that surrounded the group she affectionately thought of as 'her boys'. If Law was on a date that meant Sabo belonged exclusively to Ace and Luffy, and if Sanji was on a date that meant his stomach couldn't handle cow's milk. And judging both from the roll of Law's shoulders, the part of Sanji's hair, and the way they leaned on each other, she had to make a mental note to send Sabo home with a tall black coffee straight from a pot that had been sitting for at least a couple of hours. Even if her favorite guitarist hadn't been involved, she was sure his green-haired friend was. In fact... if Sanji knew about the Sunny now, that meant he'd likely gotten the job, and well, that just made the world a bit smaller didn't it.

Law laughed. "Yes, that Sabo. He's that songwriter friend I told you about! He'll make it big someday," he sighed. "And then he can afford to feed Luffy the kind of diet he wants to eat!"

"Oh cool." The blond sipped his mocha after the barista moved back away from the counter again, presumably to let Sabo know what was going on outside. "Wait if he's here, then he's the guy I was telling you about!" He pouted lightly, "You're mean, letting me go on like that. I didn't know you knew this place!"

"And ruin all your fun taking me out and letting you lead? That would have seemed cruel," the taller replied around a smile poorly hidden by his cup.

"Hmph. I get the feeling you're laughing at me, Dr. Trafalgar." But Sanji made sure to keep his tone light and teasing.

"A little. The town is comprised of relatively small social groups: you'll find quickly that most all the people YOU know, know all the other people you know."

Koala gave them another kilowatt smile as Sanji paid for their drinks, and slipped them a plate with a light, gentle on the stomach sort of pastry in the middle of it, already cut into bite sized pieces. The cook almost said something but she winked, so he just sighed a little and escorted his date to a table outside in the comfortable night air.

"Just one more thing to get used to I suppose. I grew up on the Baratie. We never really had a specific home port, traveling the East Blue River with the seasons, you know. Officially we were registered with Sabaody but," he shrugged, "that was mostly so the Old Man could make sure the CPS folks would stay off his back. Point is I'm not used to having a group of people who all know each other." That came with a sheepish laugh that was covered partially by his cup.

Law smiled and chuckled a little bit. "Yes, that sounds like a rather different mode of life, to be sure, much more eventful. Then you move someplace small like this and everyone knows everyone else and it's almost alarming. You go to introduce your friends and they just laugh because they know each other."

"Something like that." Sanji sighed with another snicker, "As long as somebody doesn't come along and tell me we're related somehow I'll be good. I have the feeling I'll be meeting everyone in this group all at the same time when I'm at work anyway. Provided Nami doesn't fire me for getting into a fight the first day."

"Oh, she won't. Didn't I tell you I've stitched up the green idiot three times this week? He started that shit BEFORE he worked there, she doesn't really object to fighting. Just don't do it IN the bar." The doctor smirked and drained his coffee.

"Dare I ask what the mossbrain did for a living before Nami was gracious enough to put up with him?" The cook couldn't keep the color of fury out of the word he used to describe Zoro.

"It was very dangerous. That is all I know. The only thing of his previous profession of which I am aware are the marks it left on his body, some of which are horrific indeed. Whatever he did, it put his life in severe danger." The tone was a bit flat.

Law couldn't break patient confidentiality but this unsubstantiated hatred was starting to get annoying.

Sensing something amiss with the conversation, Sanji quickly shifted the subject, "So what kind of music do you like?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that... and classical. I'm very fond of soothing melodies and chords," the answer came with a gentle smile and a deep breath in. "And I like singing haunting tunes, ballads and the like."

"The kind that send chills down your spine, yeah?"

"Just that kind. I love them. Dunno why, I just do."

"My favorite band leans towards that kind too. A lot of... hmm... almost operatic songs."

"Ah, I'm not so good at those, though I like listening to them. I don't have that kind of, ah...lung power," Law snickered softly.

"I'm sure anything you can do is better than me. At best I sound like a cheesy lounge singer, and that's when I can stay on key. So, don't feel too bad. I couldn't get up on stage at all. I have to admit I am a little curious though." The blond sipped his coffee for a pause, "Is it a hobby that you use to distract from work, or is medicine what you went into because music isn't a 'stable' career?"

"The former. I only got into it as a hobby after being turned out of the hospital for having too many high-stress indicators," the other laughed softly as he turned his empty cup around in his hand. "Then when I discovered a modicum of talent I just started playing and singing with the locals."

"Well, I look forward to hearing you play. And sing." The cook waggled his eyebrows, though only one spiral was visible.

"Oh I'm sure. Excuse me for a second, and you just might hear both tonight. I'll be right back," Law promised, rising to dispose of his cup and slip into the back to see another sexy blond, one he was much more intimately familiar with.

Sanji nodded to him, still sipping at his own drink, and silently glad that he hadn't been asked any questions about why he'd only taken small bites of the pastry as well. It wasn't a conversation to have on a first date. As he watched Law walk away, he wondered what the brunet's policy was on first date blowjobs.

When the doctor entered the back of the store, courtesy of Koala opening the counter-door with a small shake of her head and amused exasperation, he found the lights off, and almost didn't have any warning before arms were wrapping around his waist and a mouth was on his neck, nibbling at his hairline.

"Holy shh—Sabo! Jesus Christ don't DO that you were an inch away from an elbow in the ribs!" But he leaned back into the touch anyway, his shoulders relaxing as his voice lowered to a low, throaty purr. Yes... that felt so nice, and his arms went back to wrap around one of his three partners. "Why's it all dark back here? Practicing a new sound?"

"Nope, figured you'd come lookin' when I didn't show up. Who's the new blondie?" He trailed his tongue up Law's skin to a pierced ear, and tugged gently on the lobe, snaking his fingers up under the brunet's shirt to play guitar chords in his happy trail.

"Mmm, yeah, met him in the ER, new guy from Sunny. He's cute. And flirty. And once I got the thought of him in mind with another fuck-handsome blond I know I just HAD to come out for coffee... especially since the work machine's broken," the taller man made a face before his back arched because DAMMIT the E chord always did things to him.

"He the guy Nami was screeching about right before I left?" Sabo snickered, plucking his lover's belly like his favorite ax. "Oh you did, did you? And it had nothing to do with the fact that Luffy told you I'd be here? I know he went to see you after Ace got home."

"Ah, he really didn't stay long. Left me to his idiots," Law gasped softly, back arching more and his fingers set into the back of Sabo's neck. "But yeah that's the guy. How's Ace doing?"

"Grumpy as usual. Didn't want to let me leave after he woke up the second time. He's probably back in his work now though. You know how he gets when he's got a project." The blond leaned his forehead against the other's shoulder, dropping his teasing as the near fight Luffy and Ace had earlier replayed through his head. "I swear I don't know how you put up with us sometimes. I don't know how I put up with us sometimes."

"Patience, care, and insane amounts of coffee," the doctor replied, as he always did when he turned his head to kiss his cheek. "And because I love you. You're idiots sometimes, but you're my idiots." He gave Sabo a squeeze and grinned.

"Hmm. The voice of sanity and reason in the chaos. Doesn't hurt you have an ass like whoa." Sabo captured his mouth with a grin for a short kiss, then pulled back, "However, I am not one to stand between you and the possible double blond threesome you have running around that genius head of yours. So, lead on, Dr. Heartstealer, my guitar is yours for your serenade."

"Wanna make it a duet? I promised to show him my sexy singing voice. And I think between the two of us we can manage to make him turn into a puddle on the floor, we've done it to many a stronger man," Law grinned mischievously, black eyes gleaming in the dark.

"Oh you are evil."

The smile on face said otherwise, though, and he dashed off behind the shelf of expensive coffee brands and filters to grab his mottled case—at one point it had been white, now it was so many different colors that it was impossible to tell if the still white spots were actually the original surface, or white paint added later thanks to his often over-zealous artist boyfriend.

"I'm thinking, Addicted? I've got my mini."

"Oh hell yes. Let's do it. I want to see him SQUIRM with his legs crossed," Law purred, just as wicked as his boyfriend as he licked his lips. "Got a spare mic? I know you usually do, but I want to do that gritty thing that makes your spine prickle since I get quiet when I do that." He grabbed up the amp to help him carry it.

"Check the back. Should have Angel tucked up in the corner." The guitarist popped his case and slung his baby around his shoulders with practiced ease. He'd almost brought his acoustic for tonight and was suddenly quite glad he hadn't.

"Oh perfect," the brunet licked his lips again. "Have I mentioned lately I love the fact that we can share music? Because I do."

The blond ducked in to steal another kiss before they were out in public. It wasn't that he was ashamed of Law or keeping their relationship a secret, but he was sure springing the depth of what was going on behind the curtain, so to speak, was definitely more than what the often more stoic man was willing to dish out on a first date.

"Anytime, babe!"

Then he was striding out through the cafe, to the sound of some of his regular fans applauding, to set up in front of his favorite light pole. It was the only one on the block that had an electrical outlet that wasn't either shorted out or locked behind police glass, and coincidentally right in front of Sanji's table. Considering Sabo was certain Law had allowed the other blond to pick the seat, he took it as kismet, and tucked his pick between his teeth so he could offer his hand to shake.

"Sabo D. Grey. You must be Sanji Noir, Luffy told me you're his new cook."

The slightly shorter blond started to his feet, taking the other's hand with a warm smile, "Yes. I'm sorry I never introduced myself before, I love your music. It's not what I normally listen to, but I think that's what makes it unique. It's definitely one of the reasons I kept coming back, besides Koala's absolutely delicious coffee!"

"Ah? Well then, you'll probably hear a good bit more of it if you're working at the Sunny. Nami regularly has me fill in when certain doctors cancel on her at the last minute. I was there tonight, in fact, apparently while you and Zoro were rabble rousing out back. Was quite a row I hear."

They were getting along. Marvelous! Law approached them both with a small cough, his smile one that Sabo knew well, covering the thoughts running through his mind. With the amplifier set up, and his microphone plugged in, the doctor was more than ready to begin their set, but watching his lover and potential new mate bond was entertaining to say the very least.

He handed the cord for Sabo's guitar to him, and addressed the café itself, his mic up at his mouth, "I don't know how many songs I'll be able to perform, but considering the audience, I'd like to at least get one out of my system."

A cheer went through the crowd and around them windows began to open as the word travelled among the apartments on the upper floors of the shops. It was a regular thing for Sabo to play in front of Hack's Coffee Shoppe, to the point that often the blond musician was told they were going to miss him when he made it big. And he was going to make it big! Everyone from Kokoyashi Village, the part of the city from Grand Line to the East Blue River, swore that someday, sooner or later, the videos of him on Youtube would reach the music execs and he was going to get discovered.

Sanji took this anticipation as a cue to re-take his seat, and he smirked at Law over his coffee cup, rolling the sweet drink over his tongue while he waited.

The two took a short minute to make sure the guitar was in tune, and for a few warm ups for Law's throat since he'd been talking most of the day. Then they turned, the doctor slightly further forward than his guitarist.

"_I'm so addicted to all the things you do. When you're going down on me in between the sheets, or the sound you make with every breath you take. It's not like anything. When you're loving me."_

Sabo's fingers danced almost lazily over the strings, picking out a walking melody that was both haunting and enticing. It matched Law's rough baritone perfectly, and the way they meshed together made it clear to the cook that they'd played together often.

_"Oh boy let's take it slow. So as for you, well you know where to go. I want to take my love and hate you till the end."_

Then the guitarist cut in with a hard chord progression, augmented by a small pedal that had been tucked up inside of his amp.

_"It's not like you to turn away from all the bullshit I can't take. It's not like me to walk away. I'm so addicted to all the things you do. When you're going down on me in between the sheets, or the sound you make with every breath you take. It's not like anything. When you're loving me. Yeah!"_

Backing off a little for the next verse, Sabo rocked in time to the beat, and Law traveled the length of his mic cord without actually pulling it tight, the hand not on the microphone itself holding the wire so as to give him a physical reminder of how much distance he had.

_"I know when it's getting rough. All the times we spend when we try to make this love something better than just making up again."_ The singer made his way back to Sanji as the chords picked up again, "_It's not like you to turn away. All the bullshit I can't take. Just when I think I can walk away, I'm so addicted to all the things you do when you're going on me in between the sheets or the sound you make with every breath you take. It's not like anything!"_

The song was clearly reaching its climax. Sabo's guitar grew stronger, and Law's words gained that growling edge that meant he was pleading for the object of his song to throw him a bone.

_"I'm so addicted to the things you do when you're going down on me~! Or the sound you make with every breath you take! It's not like anything when you're loving me! Yeah! When you're loving me!"_

All at once Sabo cut back, presumably for emphasis, and Law leaned in, both hands on the mic, eyes intent on Sanji, _"How can I make it through all the things you do? There's just got to be more to you and me?"_

He pulled back just as the cook was starting to lean in, his hand on his cup white-knuckled and his mouth dry. Shit Law was good! The buildup of repeated choruses as the song approached its final climax was almost exactly like the rest had been foreplay! Sanji was panting without realizing it, blown wide open and wanting. Especially with how suggestive the song was.

Then for a third time the guitarist brought back the haunting walk across his strings, deviating from the normal pattern if Law's moment of concern was to be believed, but he rolled with it, putting more emphasis on the last two lines, soft and pleading.

_"I'm so addicted to you. Addicted to you."_

"W-wow…" Sanji sounded breathless, his hands gripping the mug of his coffee, and the last several mouthfuls were completely forgotten.

All around him the café and neighborhood went wild, cheering and applauding. Several had cell phones furiously trying to be the first one to post the new video. Koala and her boss, a big blond haired man with a fighter's build and deep set eyes—the one and only Hack—stood in the doorway proud of their little busker on the corner with his homegrown fanclub. Sabo kicked into a new song right away, flipping a switch with his toes to change the mic from Angel in Law's hand to Butterfly, a portable headset on his right ear.

That was the doctor's cue to put Angel down in the back of the amp where he'd gotten it. Then he made his way back over to his date. He smiled suggestively at the expression on the stunned cook.

"Y-y-yeah. You're not allowed to sing when I'm cooking. Luffy'll have both our heads for it, and I'll have to answer to my dad for burning something for the first time in nearly twenty years."

"I gather you enjoyed it then."

"Understatement of the fucking year. Holy shit, Law!"

Sabo was getting a little enthusiastic, in spite of the late hour of the night, and the brunet looked over his shoulder. Hidden from view, he mouthed that he was leaving and the musician covered his acknowledging nod with a couple of headbangs, making his wavy, chin-length hair flop about for show.

"Should we take this conversation somewhere we can hear each other a little better?" Law asked, offering his hand.

Sanji nodded enthusiastically, and was only able to restrain himself until they turned the corner leading back towards his own apartment building. As soon as they were out of sight and the music faded into the background, he pounced his date, capturing his mouth with a hunger that surprised even himself! But he didn't let himself think, and it felt, as Law met him kiss for kiss, that the doctor didn't have any intention of doing so either.

Law definitely didn't mind being jumped as he was. A little startled, sure, but at the same time a part of him had expected it - and welcomed it. Coherent thought pushed aside for much—_much—_better things, Law hummed into the kisses, drawing Sanji closer to him.

More familiar with nighttime hookups than he'd like to admit, the blond maneuvered them into an alley between two apartment buildings and backed the doctor up against the wall, sucking on his lip—and those damn piercings—with a coffee and caramel flavored tongue. His hands slid into the thick black curls, under the spotted cap, and he absently traced a splotch of pale pink on Law's temple with his thumb, humming into the kiss.

The brunet let out a heavy breath and trailed his hands down Sanji's sides, tugging him in and pressing his body flush against his own. With one hand pressed firmly to the small of the blond's back and the other settling on his waist, Law was content to match the kisses. Sanji tasted rather divine after all, and when he released his lip, Law's tongue darted out to catch more of it.

Aware of just how close they were, Sanji didn't grind against him, no matter how much he wanted to; the last thing he wanted to do was lead Law on. So, he concentrated on using his mouth, kissing the breath from the other's lungs, and then nipping along his chin scruff. He'd have worried about his own, but the doctor already knew about his little biology problem, so the idea that he drew on his goatee to help further his masculinity on a body that wouldn't cooperate wasn't all that important. Instead he gave into the desire to taste the different colors of the taller man's skin, tracing the line of brown to pink with his tongue and sucking on it to bruise both sides lightly.

The doctor let out a soft noise, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of Sanji's mouth on his skin. There was always something sensual about having those spots traced by his lovers, and this was certainly no different… just as sweet and pleasurable, and he let out a louder groan. The hand on the blond's back lowered a little to sneak under the hoodie and shirt to skirt across skin.

The little voice in the back of Sanji's head flared up, but skin was okay. It was his waist, he was still okay. He was teasing Law's skin after all, it was only fair. He did squirm a little when those talented fingers reached a semi-ticklish spot, but otherwise he concentrated on moving on with his mouth, taking the lobe of one pierced ear between his teeth and tugging on the metal there. His own hands dropped from Law's hair to his chest, smoothing out the doctor's scrub shirt to feel the lithe definition of muscle underneath.

Law's other hand moved to join the one palming Sanji's skin, and his fingers pressed firmly into muscle and then back up the blond's sides to settle on his waist once again. Still not having moved out from underneath the shirt.

"Mmmm." The cook purred, breathing into the taller man's ear.

He was having a hard time holding himself away. He really, really wanted to lean in, bury himself in Law's arms, but he couldn't. Even if the other did know. To make up for it he curled his spine, dropping his lips to the jut of collar bone poking out from Law's scrubs, tucked under the edge of his coat. There was another spot there, so he licked it, mapping the outline like he would an ice cream treat.

The doctor gasped at that, and he moved one of his hands to touch Sanji's head, his fingers sliding into the blond strands of hair to grip them lightly. His collar bones were sensitive, and he was discovering that Sanji seemed to have a devilish tongue.

Sensing he was onto something, Sanji nipped at the places he was licking, then moved away a little, following the line of color change up over the rise of tendon to his pulse point. No need to overwhelm the man all at once after all.

Law's head tilted back and another louder noise escaped him. This just wasn't fair... Sanji was doing all the work, and Law was never one to let a partner have all the fun. He brought his other hand up to the cook's neck and pulled him up gently, his mouth latching onto Sanji's in a consuming kiss. He edged the other around, switching their position so Sanji was now against the wall, and the doctor's hands moved from the cook's shoulders and down his chest.

The blond didn't register it at first, it wasn't until Law actually pressed his palm to the front of his body that the voice from before lit up his mind. NO! Hoping the other took his shudder as a shiver of pleasure, he ducked, a move almost too fast to be seen; down, out, and around, ignoring the way the bricks pulled on his hoodie. As per Law's order, and with significant suggestion of his brother, Sanji wasn't wearing anything around his chest under his shirt, so the doctor had gotten himself a full grope in on the one part of the cook's anatomy that he hated to have touched. They didn't belong there, and they shouldn't be messed with.

But...

He was hoping he could salvage this by literally blowing Law's mind. So he reversed them back, voraciously attacking the doctor's sensitive spot, just above his collar bone, with both hands on the front of his pants. He massaged the brunet's hips, and worked his way inward, aiming for his groin.

Law's hands instantly moved to clutch Sanji's shoulders and he bit down on his own lip harshly, unable to help but buck into the blond's touch a little. His head fell back, meeting the brick wall a little harder than intended, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the way Sanji's mouth on that sensitive spot was making him feel. He hadn't really had time to think over the reaction he had gotten from Sanji when he had touched his chest, but pleasure shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind for later analysis.

Sanji followed the line of collar bone to where it met the doctor's shirt, his hands snaking into the other's pants below. He didn't dive right in exactly, but he certainly made his intention clear. If the brunet was going to stop him, he needed to do something now.

In an attempt to get across that he was perfectly fine where things were heading, Law pushed up against the blond's hands and moaned.

The cook smiled and sank, skipping over parts of the taller man's body that he'd go back to explore at some point he was sure. For now though, he fell to his knees and mouthed over the bulge of erection through the doctor's scrub pants. He mapped it, just as he had with his collar bone, length, width, thickness, all through the fabric to further the teasing sensations. His hands came around the waistband of Law's pants to both hold his hips still, and subtly ask permission to pull them down—since scrubs didn't come with a convenient fly he could just open to get at his prize.

Law managed to nod, not really caring that they were still in a public place, no matter how late or away from things they were. All he really cared about at the moment was feeling Sanji's mouth on an important, aching part of his anatomy.

That devilish smile grew. The blond walked his fingers down the elastic, pulling the cotton down, scrubs and boxers at the same time, until the dark man's phallus sprang free. Then he was on it. His sinful mouth at the base, tugging at the ring nestled between scrotum and shaft with his tongue. He couldn't say he was exactly surprised by piercings, but he was definitely delighted by them. Once he had Law's pants down far enough that they wouldn't fall into the dirt of the alley, but still completely exposed him, Sanji pulled back. He kissed his fingers, then pressed them to the tip of the bi-color cock—and oh didn't THAT just tickle his inner aesthetics.

At the look of confusion, the cook dug into his back pocket to pull out a condom. He winked, implying that he'd been semi-planning to blow the doctor all night, before tearing it open and blowing gently into the ring of latex. The voice in the back of his head made a thankful note that he'd paid attention to where the gloves Law wore came from earlier, so he didn't have to worry about an allergy, but the rest of him was far more interested in rolling the protective sheath over what he was rapidly considering his dessert for the night.

His mouth followed, tonguing at the ring in Law's frenulum even before he fully had the condom on, and using his lips to pull the plastic tight in ways that had always driven his other partners crazy.

The back of the brunet's head hit the brick wall again, much harder than before, and the noise that escaped him was somewhat strangled. It took a great deal of concentration not to not fight against Sanji's hold and move.

As soon as his hand hit the base, the cook was devouring him like he didn't have a gag reflex. Or at least like he'd been doing this for a lot longer and more often than his appearance gave him credit for. He sucked and pulled, bobbed and tucked the hand not steadying himself into Law's waistband to fondle the orbs below his cock. He hummed happily, uncaring about anything else at the moment. His entire concentration was on literally blowing Law's mind.

Law swore and one of his hands gripped Sanji's hair tight, and again he fought the urge to snap his hips forward into the blond's mouth. Damn but he could give Ace a run for his money...

He really wouldn't be able to last long. But he wanted to hold out, not wanting to come too soon...

The gold silk of his bangs fell over both eyes as he looked up, intense blue trained on the quivering breaths, his ears drinking every moan and curse, and he downright purred around his mouthful when his nose met dark curls. He undulated the muscles of his throat, swallowing around the tip of Law's dick. Mentally, he chanted for the doctor to come. To let loose.

There was definitely no way Law could hold out. It was all simply too much… the heat and constricting pleasure of Sanji's mouth and throat sent him over the edge, and he doubled over a little, letting out a loud and long drawn out moan as liquid heat curled up his spine and his muscles quivered as his release tore through him.

Sanji made the motions like he would drink him down except for the rubber between them, helping the taller man riding his orgasm as long as he could. Then he pulled back, sitting on his heels, and gently removed the condom. His hands were soft as silk, the touch barely pinching. A knot in the latex and he tossed it further down the alley where people were unlikely to stumble over it.

He licked his lips, looking up Law satisfied.

The doctor slumped against the brick wall, chest heaving and body shaking a little from the aftershocks of his release. He blinked the stars from his vision and peered down at the blond with a lop-sided grin. The hand that was still in Sanji's hair pulled gently, clearly indicating that he wanted the blond up.

To say he crawled up the doctor's body wouldn't have been a fair description. More like he climbed, hand over hand, until he was mouth to mouth with the brunet again. He laughed easily, with the tenor of a contact high.

"Good?"

"Oh... better than good..." Law purred and grazed his lips over Sanji's own. "I'd say 'divine'..."

The other chuckled, "Good. I haven't lost my touch." He drew lazy circles in the center of the mottled man's chest, "Do you have your sea legs, or should I carry you back to the hospital?"

The love-drunk brunet slung his arm over Sanji's shoulders and let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Legs are steady, no need to carry me..." He grazed the cook's lips again. "But is there anything... you'd like me to do in return for such a wonderful treat?"

"You did that with that amazing voice of yours. This was _me_ paying _you_ back." Sanji shook his head. "Though, I wouldn't be adverse to a second cup of coffee sometime. No real dinners though. I hate restaurants. Most of them can't compare to me." He laughed. "At least as long as you don't sing while I'm cooking anyway."

The doctor let out a low laugh and planted another, more firm kiss on Sanji's lips. "Very well then. We will definitely need to have another cup of coffee..."

The blond happily returned the kiss, sucking on the metal rings again, then blinked over Law's shoulder, and groaned, burying his head against the taller man's neck. "Tell me that isn't dawn."

Law blinked and looked up. "Oh. 'Fraid I can't, because then I'd be lying."

"Damnit. I was afraid you were going to say that. Unfortunately, that means I need to bid you good... well, I guess good morning. I have roughly six hours to catch some sleep before needing to face the music with Nami."

"Understood. And I wish you the best of luck." He said with a grin and a nod. "And I should perhaps _try_ and get some sleep myself..."

"That would probably be a good idea." Sanji smiled up at him, stealing another kiss. "Good morning, Law. Sweet dreams."

"Mmm, good morning to you too." The other purred softly, pecking the blond's cheek in return. "Sweetest of dreams for you, Sanji."

At that the cook reluctantly pulled away, and sauntered off such that he knew his ass was on display until he was around the corner and out of sight. Then he pulled in on himself. He'd have to have a conversation with Law about boundaries, the ghost touch of the other man's hand on his br—chest!—still sent shivers down his spine. It brought back memories best left buried under the fuzzy haze of Ativan and Effexor and the other host of pills he had to take just to hold down a job and maintain some semblance of sanity. Speaking of... he pulled his phone out of his pocket for the time and picked up his pace. He was almost a half an hour late for the one that kept him from throwing up everything he ate.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:** Song: Addicted - Saving Abel


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Since it's after midnight here, technically I'm posting on time. X''D

I just wanna make a note about the swords in this chapter, traditionally, according to my research, a samurai's katana were always considered female, both in the same idea as ships in the West, and not, because they had different reasons for assigning that gender to them.

Silva is here as Nami and Zoro this time. And Tsuris was kind enough to Beta for me while Kouhai's on break. ^_^

* * *

><p>Seven hours, a scalding hot shower, and a dry piece of toast to help his morning meds stay down until he got to work, Sanji felt like himself again. Almost, because the memories of the night before played his in mind some, specifically the touch of Law's hand on his chest. But at least by the time he was straightening his tie, and fussing over the way that the borrowed binder didn't quite give him the long lines he preferred, he felt stable enough that he could pick up his phone and head out.<p>

At least until he saw the message he'd received.

**[Heys, heard you were in a scuffle. Need me to beat somebody up for you, Baby?]**

That had been several minutes ago, when he was still in the shower, and the cold chills that ran down his spine as he realized there were more messages below that one only made him grip his phone tighter.

**[Baby?]**

**[You there?]**

**[Aw, come on, Baby, I haven't been away that long. You know you've missed me.]**

**[Seriously, where are you? Why aren't you answering?]**

The last one had been seconds before Sanji picked up the device.

He was frozen, staring at it, trying to will himself to keep ignoring the text messages, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. The tension crawled up his back, hunching his shoulders, drawing him unconsciously tighter around himself.

It grew, and grew, and grew… and grew!

Until…!

—DINGDONG!—

He nearly dropped the thing as it went off in his hand, and he fumbled with it to get the screen back on so he could read what he already knew was going to be there.

**[Guess you just don't have time for me anymore. I miss you, Baby. You're the only one who ever really cared about me, but if you don't even care anymore, then who do I have? No one. I love you, Baby. There's no point in going on if you don't love me back.]**

"No! No, I'm here! I'm sorry! I was in the bathroom. I have work. I'm sorry. Please don't go! I'm here!" Sanji texted with shaking thumbs.

**[Baby! I knew you'd never leave me!]**

**[You have work?]**

**[Where you working?]**

"That new place my neighbor told me about."

**[Downtown? Baby you know I don't like going that far from the river.]**

"I'm sorry. They wouldn't let me wear my binder at the other place."

There was silence for a while. Heavy and oppressive, and Sanji read his last text over and over, a growing pit of cold nausea in his stomach. He felt like he could count the seconds by the way his heart hammered in his chest.

He was in the process of typing out another, "I'm sorry", when the DINGDONG came again.

**[Well, as long as they treat you right. Maybe I'll make an exception and come see you in action. Wear that little number I got you for your birthday. You know I love when you show off those legs of yours.]**

Relief flooded him, and sagged back against the pillows on the bed, knees tucked up to support his hands while he typed.

"When are you coming in?"

**[Sunday. Riding with your old man. He picked me up in Sabaody. I told him I'd mop the floor for him if I could hitch a ride to come see you. Think he knows how much I miss you.]**

"He probably knows how much I miss you too." He held onto that one for a while, hovering over the send button as he thought about the night before.

No, it was fair! Dr. Kaya said that he was allowed to date other people. They'd broken up when he left town. That meant he wasn't at the other man's beck and call anymore, and he had no right to be jealous. But no matter how many times he went over it in his head, Sanji still couldn't make himself quite believe it.

So he sent the text, along with another one that said he couldn't wait to see the other when he got there.

Then there was silence again. Not oppressive, but it felt like he was on hold. Waiting for a response. And somehow paralyzed into just sitting on his bed when he knew he needed to get up, get his stuff together and head to the Sunny. Nami and the others were waiting for him, and after yesterday's fiasco with the Marimo, he didn't want to be late.

But he couldn't risk missing a text message either…

He wasted another ten minutes, biting his lip, constantly turning the screen of his phone back on, and staring at the clock before he finally gave a heavy sigh and wrote one more message in spite of the fact that his last two hadn't been answered.

"I love you. I g2g or I'll be late. See you soon. 3"

Arriving at the Sunny in record time, he was out of breath and overheated in the heavy afternoon sun. He still had a few hours before the bar itself opened, but he needed to open the kitchen and get something on to feed the crew before then. So he'd run most of the way, forgoing even his typical 'walk to work' cigarette in favor of taking shortcuts through back lots and down alleys to make up the time he spent waiting for his phone to ring.

So, it came as no surprise to him that his hand was shaking as he reached for the door to the club. He glared at it, willing it to stop, along with the urge to just grab a smoke before walking in. He couldn't. He didn't have time! He had to clock in and get started! Nicotine could WAIT DAMNIT!

He shoved the craving aside, ripping the door open with more force than necessary, and immediately blushed heavily as it drew the attention of… what were their names again? Franky and U—something… He couldn't remember. He was shit at that sort of thing. He always had been ever since he was fresh out of high school; it was like all of his short term memory just poofed! Anyway, he waved at them sheepishly, and they, obviously able to recognize him better than he was able to recognize them, just waved back, going back to whatever they were doing with the lighting and boom mic on the stage.

The cook escaped further encounters by ducking into the kitchen, intent on making something both hearty and filling, since he doubted any of them had gotten much better sleep than he had after the nonsense with Zoro—funny, he could remember his name just fine now. The thought made him pull the flour and eggs from the cabinet and fridge respectively. Bread. That was always good for working out tension, and he had a quick-rise secret the Old Man taught him that cut hours off the time it took to make it without sacrificing taste or nutrition.

He was just ready to punch it down for the second time when the one person who could undo all of his precious relaxation strolled, more like ambled ungracefully, into his kitchen. He sneered, still not having had the chance to grab his first cigarette of the day.

"What do you want, Marimo?"

"Tch. What crawled up your nose and died, shit cook?"

The bouncer, in all of his surly grace, snagged a mug from the top shelf of the dish rack, above where the customers could see into the kitchen proper, and plunked it down in front of the coffee maker. Like the man himself, the mug spoke of hard work, long nights, and a certain endurance, most prominently displayed by the three mended cracks around the outside. It had been dropped at least twice and glued back together then shellacked to reinforce the mending.

And Zoro wrapped his meaty hand around it with hard fondness that just ticked the cook off more.

"Nothing!" He growled, punching the dough harder than he needed to.

There was a scoff, and he snarled at the Marimo, daring him to speak his thoughts aloud. In return, green eyebrows rose as Zoro lifted the mug to his lips, sipping gingerly at the steaming black drink. They seemed to be in a standoff for a few moments, the energy heavy and anticipatory all around them. Neither willing to back down while the other was watching them.

The dough remained unkneaded, the coffee undrunk.

Then a soft voice cleared its throat in the doorway, "Excuse me, Zoro. I'd like some coffee before the bar opens, if you don't mind."

"Eh, sorry, Vivi." The bouncer shifted to the side, around the edge of the counter and out of Sanji's personal area.

In his wake stood the most fetchingly familiar woman with powder blue hair the cook had ever seen. He blinked a couple of times and a slow smile curled the corner of his mouth.

"You're the gorgeous nurse from the ER last night!"

She grinned, "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."

Today she was dressed as Robin had been the day before, a simple tee-shirt with the bar's logo and a pair of jean shorts, rolled up to above mid-thigh over stockings that pretended to be fishnets but really weren't. Her earrings were bright green and cyan peacock feathers dangling from polished turquoise stones, and her long hair was pulled up into a smart ponytail that gave her that 'just out of high school' look that was sure to bring her plenty of tips.

"So," the cook began, turning back to his bread while the waitress reached down her own mug, "is this your day job, or is that your hobby?"

Her laughter was musical when he waggled his eyebrows at her, pulling the dough out onto the floured counter to begin kneading it in earnest. She poured her wake-up call like a pro, sprinkling just a touch of sugar, and a dash of cream.

"I'm actually something of a volunteer over there. They do pay me, but only for half of my time. It's a sort of… trade off for something I did when I was younger."

Sanji glanced at her, the frustration from dealing with everything evaporated like the morning dew. "I've had a couple of those. My first job in fact. The Old Man caught me into something I shouldn't have been, and the rest of that month was spent peeling potatoes. And my thumb, but that's sort of beside the point."

Vivi laughed again, and nodded. "Mine wasn't quite so bold as that. I just got tangled up with the wrong crowd for a while. Things are better now."

"That's good to hear. You're too pretty to wear orange."

"Don't let my girlfriend hear you say that."

The cook's visible eyebrow shot up. "Oh!"

"See you later, Sanji," the Arabic woman laughed some more as she made her way back out of the kitchen.

Now relaxed, it took until the rolls were in the oven and timing before his nicotine craving hit him again, and by then it was less a niggling at his mind and more a punch to the gut. So he slipped out with the timer in his pocket to lean against the back wall of the club, contemplating his morning and what that meant as far as working at the Sunny went. His phone was silent, as he'd expected it to be, but he couldn't help the pang of disappointment when he checked.

Both before his cigarette, and after.

Deciding he needed a second smoke to deal with the bundle of nerves in his stomach, the blond cast his gaze out across the vacant lot where he'd kicked the Marimo's ass yesterday. He was surprised to see the proprietor of the Sunny rolling and bouncing against an unseen opponent.

The Rubberman flung himself from the chain link fence to the ground, his arm out in a clothesline, only to tuck and roll at the last minute back up onto his feet where he spun, throwing a punch at the air hard enough to send the sweat flying from his skin, and making his muscles stand out in stark relief for a few seconds. The intake of breath was all the longer he held the stance before pulling back and lashing out with a foot instead, dropping to a crouch as though to sweep his opponent's feet out from under him. That turned into a back hand spring, and a ricochet off the solid brick wall of the club.

He was barefoot, but for a supportive wrapping around the arch of each foot and up to his ankles. His hands were similar; wrapping between the fingers and around the knuckles to protect from splitting, then around the wrist to support the tiny bones. His hoodie was sleeveless and hung open, revealing a nasty X-shaped scar that took Sanji several minutes of staring to catch entirely thanks to the way the brunet bounced around the lot. A two pendant necklace hung to the bottom of the top two points like a pair of dogtags, but instead of an identical metal tag the second looked to be a thick green stone cut through with red. Both sported big + signs in the middle of them, though the stone was a natural pattern between the colors and the metal had a hole cut out of it. And the shorts he wore were tattered blue jeans that, judging by the edges, had been torn off at the knees rather than bought that way.

Just as the cook was about to call out to his boss, another door, further down the wall, opened for a tall brunet in a mini-skirt, torn stockings, high-heeled sneakers, and a cropped button-up tied at his ribs. He said something, but Sanji couldn't make it out, and Luffy stopped mid-stance to bend all the way backwards to see the other man. A grin lit up his face unlike any other expression the blond had seen so far, and with a back somersault, the Rubberman flung himself into the taller brunet's arms.

The sounds of a kiss filtered through the afternoon city noises, and Sanji took that, plus the end of his second cigarette, as his cue to return to his kitchen. He gave a chuckle as he walked back inside, shaking his head at the pair's blatant affection.

His good mood was almost immediately ruined by the sound of the Marimo's voice though. He glared heavily, which really wasn't fair. All the man was doing was helping Usopp and Franky haul a lighting boom back up to the ceiling. Sanji assumed they'd had to replace the bulbs or some other technical thing about it. He didn't know stage work. At the moment all he cared about was the fact that the goddamn green-haired bastard's voice was just loud enough that he could hear it over the sounds of Brook improvising on his keyboard, and Vivi and Robin laughing over something the dark haired woman had just said. Even listening to Usopp's nervous complaining or the clacking of Chopper's computer keys would have been better than the fucking mosshead's stupid, rumbling, idiotic tones!

It just made his skin crawl!

Thankfully, just then a flash of orange caught his eye.

"Ah, Ms. Nami dear, uhh…" Sanji forced his attention away from the shitty bouncer and found himself having to actually chase after the brilliant manager slightly.

She never looked at him, but hummed in acknowledgement, giving a slight tilt to her head to indicate she was listening. She had a huge file of papers in her arm and was leafing through them while she walked.

Following her into her office, the cook paused at the door then pushed it around so that no one else could hear their conversation. The last thing he needed was for certain bastards to pick up on things. Especially when he was expecting That Person back in town.

"What is it, Sanji?"

Nami broke through his thoughts, and he realized he'd been watching the green-haired idiot through the crack in the door as though the mere thought of him would summon his stupid ass back into Sanji's personal space. With something of a jolt, he ripped himself away from the opening and noodled a little to cross the space up to Nami's desk.

"My most beautiful, brilliant, generous, thrifty manager! No one can balance books and sort out schedules like you can. It is a gift truly marveled by your—"

"Yes, I get the point. What is it you want, Sanji?" There was a note of irritation in her voice that called him up short.

He folded his hands in front of him and looked down at the desk, "I need a few days off."

"Already!?"

The cook winced; he didn't need to look up at her to know her bright, amber eyes were wide with shock. He'd only been working there a couple of days. He really didn't have enough clout to even ask for this, but what else could he do? He absolutely couldn't have That Person around the bigoted asshole. Someone would wind up dead! Most likely the Marimo! Not to mention Nami's whole 'no fighting inside' rule. Things would definitely get broken.

He had to have the time off. Spend it with That Person, and then when He left, Sanji would go back to work like nothing had ever happened. The crew of the Sunny didn't need to know what was going on, and He wouldn't be upset by how Sanji dressed. It wasn't as though He approved of the suits and ties and trousers and… he was getting off topic, and not paying attention again.

Nami was regarding him with some concern when he looked up. "Is this because of Zoro? Because I told the musclehead to apologize for whatever it was he said that pissed you off the other day."

"No. Well, he hasn't apologized, but he isn't why I need the time." Sanji was quick to assure her, and he paled under her gaze as the thought that part of him wished it actually was the Marimo crossed his mind.

"Are you okay? You seem different from yesterday."

"Ha ha ha, no! I'm fine! See?" He grinned, albeit wanly. "My father's ship is coming in next week. I just was hoping to have a few days off to spend with him is all."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

She narrowed her eyes at him, like she could tell he wasn't saying everything, but slowly, she nodded. "Alright. Which days?"

"Really? Um, the Baratie's due to dock on Sunday."

Already the manager was sitting down and pulling out her scheduling book. She flipped the pages open, and looked back up at him. "Yes, really. I'll just call in a favor from a friend of mine. Do you need the whole week, or are three days enough?"

"Three days is plenty! Thank you! You really are the most wonderful, kind, gener—"

"Save it." She leveled him with an exasperated look, though there was warmth in her eyes and a hint of smile around her mouth. "Just enjoy your time with your dad. We'll see you again on Wednesday."

He thanked her again, backing out of the office, with flowering praise for her until he was beyond her line of sight. Then he whipped out his phone, nimbly stepping around the tables and some debris Luffy had left in the middle of the open space in front of the stage.

"Eh, what's with him?" Usopp frowned down his nose at the cook's preoccupation.

Zoro shrugged, "Who knows. He's had a stick up his ass all morning. I went to grab a cup of coffee and he damn near bit my head off."

"Have you apologized yet?"

The bouncer squirmed, but scowled at his friend and co-worker, sending the darker man scrabbling back behind Franky wailing about how he was going to die at the hands of the green-haired man, and how his thousands of fans would get revenge for him, but could they please not hurt his face, he wanted his precious Kaya to be able to recognize his body when they fished it out of the sewers later!

Chopper gasped, tears in his eyes, "WAHH! ZORO! YOU'RE NOT REALLY GONNA KILL USOPP ARE YOU!?"

Zoro and Franky rolled their eyes at the same time, and turned back to wrapping the ropes that kept the stage beams aloft. Robin chuckled behind her hand, while Chopper clung to Usopp and both of them cried at the tops of their lungs.

"At least if he listens to you, Usopp, once you're deceased, you'll be part of the Grateful Dead. Yo ho ho ho ho!" Brook chortled from his corner of the stage.

The long-nosed man jumped to his feet with an affronted, if unsupported, growl, "THAT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY, OLD MAN! I COULD REALLY DIE!"

"Perhaps you'll drive your blood pressure high enough to make the vein in your neck explode. That should kill you quicker than Zoro could."

The entire group winced as one, and Franky leaned over his girlfriend with a nervous waver in his voice, "Babe, do you have to be so morbid?"

The Asian woman merely smiled, continuing to wrap silverware in paper napkins while next to her Vivi snorted into her hand.

Ah, it was good to be at the Sunny!

Sunday morning, which was really more like two o'clock in the afternoon, came warm but breezy; it was a perfect day for moving large heavy objects and furniture. When they'd discussed it Friday night, after what the crew of the Thousand Sunny was calling Sanji's Welcoming Party, Brook was only too happy to help his Nakama get out from under his current landlord.

There were advantages to leasing month to month, including being able to move out whenever one wanted, but when the owner of the building was someone as skeevy as Flint Bluejam, it also meant that unless one paid one's rent in advance, nothing would ever get repaired or improved. Plus there were the added bonuses of Brook having a car and living closer to the Sunny.

So, since the bar was closed on Sundays, it was only natural that he, Franky, Zoro, and Usopp would move the green-haired bouncer from one apartment to the other as soon as all four were awake and available that day.

The older musician didn't have much room, but he did have his old practice room and the 'storage' room that was his part of the building's basement. There was even already a bed set up down there from when Franky had busted his legs and couldn't manage steps too well. Since the rest of the tenants of his building only ever went down there to use the on-site Laundromat, it meant that Zoro would virtually have the entire floor to himself. He'd have to come up to Brook's apartment proper for showers, but there was a small water closet next to the laundry room. So, really it was perfect.

A fact which had pleased the would-be swordsman immensely.

Naturally, once he'd put his mind to DO it, it didn't take long to actually get done. It helped he owned only a few truckloads of stuff in all, three boxes and minimal furniture; his armoire, which had been the only piece of furniture he'd ever bought since coming to work at the Sunny; and his sword stand.

The wardrobe was an artisan's work, made of real cherry wood and every inch of it hand-carved beauty. He'd gotten that with the idea of passing it on in mind, something to really LAST. It took up the entire bed of Usopp's truck when he and Franky had hauled it out of his old place.

Of course, getting back out of the truck and into Brook's spare room was something else again.

"Oi! Watch it, Franky! I need those fingers, you know!" Zoro groused, rubbing the back of his left hand.

The massive clothes container was wedged half in and half out of the front hall leading into Brook's apartment. The tight turn from one door to the other made it next to impossible to get anything wider than the door itself in from the outside. As such, the two bouncers had attempted to take the turn as sharply as possible in the hopes that the blanket protecting the armoire's finish would protect it when—not if, when—it scraped on the doorjams.

"Yo ho ho ho ho. It seems we've something of a—"

"Don't you dare, you old bag of bones!"

"—stiff situation here." The middle-aged stoner finished his corpse pun in spite of Zoro's growl.

"Ugh! That was worse than the last one." Usopp groaned, leaning his head against the wall like he was physically injured by the bad joke.

"Would you say I killed you, Usopp-san? Yo ho ho ho ho!"

"Somebody shut him up!" Zoro grumbled a third time, to the sound of Franky laughing. "Why did I agree to move in here again? Was I brain damaged at the time?" His eyes cut to Usopp, "Don't answer that!"

The darker man just covered his mouth, not at all hiding the grin behind his hand.

"C'mon, bros, let's get this thing inside. Some of us have dates later. One… Two… Three… SUPER!"

They all heaved with all of their might, which considering the size of both bouncers really was quite a significant amount of raw strength. But physics was always more powerful, and the wardrobe simply wouldn't budge.

"Okay… okay… new plan… Somebody just…"

"Just what?"

"I don't know!" Usopp wailed, "I'm in too much pain to think!"

"What if we tried backing it out again and getting a different angle?" Franky leaned against the side, his thick forearm visible from where Zoro and Usopp were draped against the front.

"AFTER ALL THAT SHOVING?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

"Hmm." The green haired man merely grunted, thinking.

A five minute break, counted out by the number of songs Brook was able to pluck out on a rubber band he'd found in his pocket, refreshed both bouncers enough that Zoro kicked Usopp back to his feet. Together the four of them shifted so that Franky and Brook were pushing from within, and Zoro and Usopp were pulling from without. Opposite of the way they'd been working at the wardrobe for an hour.

Naturally, according to the long-nosed man, their progress getting the armoire out took less time than all of their attempts at getting it in, and for that he just cursed Murphy's Law with yet another wail of pseudo-exhaustion. So, once the thing was back out onto the sidewalk, balanced carefully on the steps thanks to the way Zoro leaned against it, Franky and Usopp set about re-measuring—for the third time—the dimensions of the hallway, both doors, and the wardrobe. The blunette seemed content with what he found, but the darker man was grumbling about everything that could possibly go wrong.

"Hey." Zoro raised the eyebrow over his good eye, "at least it's not raining."

"SHHHHHH!" Usopp batted his hands at the other. "Don't say that! It will!"

"All I know is the sun don't shine, and the rain refused to fall. And you don't seem to hear me when I call." Brook's soft tenor filtered through the echo in the hallway.

Franky grinned at Zoro, and both of them supplied the next line, "Wind inside and the wind outside, tangled in the window blind."

"Tell me why you treat me so unkind!" Usopp joined the others with a laugh, the song a bit more upbeat than normal, "Down where the sun don't shine, lonely and I call your name. No place left to go, ain't that a shame?"

The music broke the tension and drained the stress of the last couple of hours, and they laughed together for a bit at just how fitting the lyrics were to the current situation.

"C'mon, let's get this fucker moved in! Ow!" Franky clapped his wrists together, capitalizing on the renewed energy.

After that it was a breeze. The armoire slid into the hallway straight on perfectly, and turning from the opposite direction, with Zoro and Brook inside the apartment and Usopp and Franky outside, proved to be the key to getting the expensive wardrobe into place.

While Zoro looked it over, Brook and Franky went back for the last of the green-head's boxes, and Usopp carried what was left of the odds and ends in his truck down to the basement where Zoro would be sleeping.

A few seconds later he poked his head around the corner, "Hey, where do you want your—oh, something wrong?"

The bouncer was crouched down, peering at the door handle on the front of the chest, and running his hand over something. He grunted.

"Yeah. Found why it wouldn't move."

"Oh?"

"Look." Zoro pointed, standing up.

The latch of the handle was skewed, bent and scratched along the wood so that it sat at an angle to how it was supposed to go. Usopp sucked his breath through his teeth and darted forward.

"Oh shit!"

"Yeah."

"I can't fix it right now, but Franky's got a sander back at the Sunny. That handle's gonna have to go though." The darker man dropped down in between his friend and the furniture, opening the door to check the extent of the damage, "I could probably get one like it at the swap shop, but it's touch and go as far as what Paulie's got in stock. I'm heading out there tomorrow. Once I get it, it shouldn't be… Zoro?"

He was staring at him a little shocked, "You can fix it?"

"Well… yeah. Probably. I mean it won't be perfect, but it'll be good as."

Usopp raised an eyebrow as the tension drained from Zoro's shoulders. He clapped the sharpshooter on the shoulder with a relieved laugh.

"What did you think? That you'd have to jury-rig it? Fuck, man, you know me and Franky wouldn't leave you hanging like that!"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Just not used to being part of a team yet, I guess. Takes a bit."

Popping back up to his feet with a grin that was a dead giveaway for the next words out of his mouth, Usopp leaned into the other's arm, "Well, naturally not everyone can have ten thousand followers all depending on you to be there to get them out of any scrape they could ever get into! Have I ever told you about the time I rebuilt the entire city? By hand! I did! It was after the Agua Luna when I was five…"

It was a short time later when the other two guys came back with the last van-load of boxes and junk. The pinnacle of that was the ornate sword stand—the only other piece of furniture the bouncer simply couldn't bear to leave. It held his single most precious possessions: a set of three, authentic, Japanese katana. He had four, technically, but the last was not put on display. Ever. To do so would insult the White Lady in the worst way imaginable.

Zoro spent the better part of another hour inspecting them to insure all four were safe and intact. He trusted Franky, and especially Brook, who had his own passion for sword work, but these were his children, his partners, an extension of his body. Even if he couldn't wear them all the time in public, or use them in competition, it didn't change the fact that Zoro alone held the title of Master of the Santoryu Style; handed down from his sensei just before the man had returned to Tibet a year ago.

Satisfied that they'd been transported safely, he ran through a short kata series with each of them, starting with Yubashiri. The oldest blade in his set, her tsuba was loose, and her edge was long past the point of being able to be sharpened. Her wrapping was newer than her blade, and the ebony of her hilt could only be polished to a dull glow, instead of the regal black it had once been. She could no longer handle cutting anything except air, but that was fine. Zoro took her out regularly to let her breathe and feel the power of his art, even if she would never taste the sweet thrill of victory ever again. She had been both the first blade given to him by Sensei Mihawk, and the last. Her steady spirit, tempered by centuries of experience, was a perfect teaching tool for a young, over-enthusiastic, swordsman, and her retirement had been his reward when, after nearly a decade of study under the raptor-like man, Zoro had finally defeated him.

Next came Sandai Kitetsu, his problem child. The sword was cursed, the merchant had said, but he and she had an understanding. They had flabbergasted the sword-seller in their first meeting—Zoro having thrown her into the air, daring her to cut him. Never in their time together had the Crimson Valkyrie ever tasted his blood, but for once, when he had given it to her freely. In exchange, she was only made to defer to her older sister, as the Ebony Matron had seen more battle and earned her respect. As such, the merchant hadn't been comfortable taking money for her. Secretly, they both believed he was as happy to be rid of her as she was to have found a master that would match her wild ambition. The flames along the second daughter's edge still burned bright and true as the day she'd been forged, and her strike was swift and deadly through the air in the swordsman's hand. With her kata were a dance, hard and fierce, demanding the attention of all who would watch, the blade herself drawing people in with an ethereal song as her steel vibrated with the remembered thrill of violence.

It took longer to change to Shusui, because her elder sister's thirst for blood insisted on full stance and follow through. But the Flower Princess, with the peace symbols on her scabbard, was patient and understanding, in spite of the heavy, foreboding attitude her dark-steel blade implied. She was happy to jump to her master's hand when he drew her from her sheath. She flowed like water over rounded stones, an extension of his arm rivaled only by the White Lady. Where the middle child was hard and cold, the youngest sister was sweet and warm. She followed her master's design with absolute confidence that he knew what he was doing. She had been a gift from Sensei Ryuma before his death, bequeathed to Zoro on the condition that he surpass Sensei Mihawk before the hard man returned to Tibet, as he had been planning when Ryuma fell ill. It had been a hard time for the teenaged swordsman, but he had succeeded. And he credited most of his emotional stability to the pacifist sword.

Finally, because she was owed the most of his time, his soul mate, the one who had been with him since he was a child himself swinging bokkan around like a maniac in his sensei's garden, Wado Ichimonji. The White Lady. She had belonged to the only person he considered family beyond his sensei. More like a sister than any other person ever had been, Kuina was Zoro's rival, his inspiration, his drive for perfection, his goal, and he believed with every ounce of his heart that she lived on in the ivory blade. Sensei Koshiro, her father, had been the first stable adult in Zoro's young life, and the green-head took their separation the hardest.

When Kuina died, Koshiro could no longer bear to continue living in Four Blues City. Knowing how difficult it was going to be for Zoro, he gave the young boy Kuina's sword, which had been handed down through the sensei's family for generations, never aging, never dull, and never weakened. It was as good as saying that Koshiro had adopted him. But he still left, he had to, and it broke Zoro's heart far more than even Kuina's death itself. Abandoned and lost, the foster child didn't touch his swords for four years, and in the end, it had been Sensei Ryuma, Sensei Mihawk's partner, that had challenged him to stand up! Move forward!

To this day Zoro could still hear the elderly man's words, reverberating in his ears, "Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate."

When he finished, the swordsman-turned-bouncer sheathed Wado, and tucked her under their new bed, safe and secure where he could reach her should anyone enter their home unbidden. He gave the whole area a once over, nodding in acceptance of the energies in the place. Then he climbed the stairs two at a time to return to where the others were milling about in the hallway outside of Brook's door.

His reappearance sparked a discussion about the possibility of getting food delivered when the front door to the building opened with a grunt and a bang. Standing, framed in bright sunlight like some kind of Heavenly being, was the Sunny's brand new cook, his hair fluffed up from the wind, and his cheeks rosy with exertion. He had a full armload of grocery bags, two paper tucked into his chest and at least three plastic hanging from each elbow. For a second he looked stunned to see them. Then his face clouded as his eyes landed on Zoro under his fringe.

"Oh no. No no no. You are not. Brook, tell me he's not. It's bad enough I gotta stare at your ugly mug all day at work, I'm not putting up with running into it in the laundry room when I'm off!" He glanced pleadingly at the eldest of them.

The older man smiled and shrugged. "Sorry, Sanji, but I'm afraid so, yohohoho!"

Zoro snorted. "Hardly. Y'all know where I spend my time when at home and it certainly isn't doing laundry." He migrated to the side of the hall, as the others were doing, to clear a path, then after a second (and three very pointed looks) he paused and swallowed. "Uhm. Want me to carry some of those bags? You oughta have at least one hand free to hold the stair rail."

The offer was awkward as hell, but hey, he tried!

Sanji glared at them all, making Usopp shiver and wince. Making his way past them, he sniffed. The very idea of letting the mossbrain help him made his skin crawl. What did he think? That Sanji was too weak to handle groceries?! Didn't he have any clue?! The cook had grown up with this sort of hauling. First on the Baratie and then with his brother when he'd first moved away from home! And walking up a gangplank with armloads of precious groceries was a hell of a lot more dangerous than a few flights of stairs! The steps weren't moving!

He even had the dexterity to 'accidentally' press Zoro into the wall was he started to climb. He called back, tone dripping with how ridiculous the idea sounded.

"If I'd wanted my meat bruised I'd have bought it that way, shitty Marimo."

"Fine! Just fuckin' excu—"

He was elbowed sharply by the sniper, right in the healing stitches, and had to gasp a second before glaring back at them. He got three hands pointing him upstairs and the demand was clear: APOLOGIZE. NOW. He bared his teeth, but turned and started climbing the stairs after him.

"Wait the fu—wait up, cook!"

Great, now Zoro was following him. The grasshead would know which apartment was his! Well, he supposed it couldn't be helped if the asshole was living there now. He just didn't have the time to deal with his bullshit at the moment. He had a dinner to fix! He was expecting someone! So he didn't answer, just kept climbing. Four flights up, the second apartment on the fourth floor, and the only one in the entire building that still had the original crown molding around the frame.

Juggling his keys was a difficult task but one that he managed well enough. He was just shutting the door when the Marimo ascended the last steps.

"I said wait a goddamn second you idiot cook!" Frustrated from the climb, and being ignored, Zoro lunged forward to hold the door open. "How the fuck am I supposed to apologize properly if you won't stand still for two goddamn seconds?!"

"You know how to apologize? That's rich." Sanji scowled, but didn't push on the door, merely holding it so the bouncer couldn't get it any further open. He didn't want him to see inside, "I'd like to see you attempt, but I don't have time right now. Save it."

"Honestly? You don't have time for 'I'm sorry for being an ass and I don't know what I said but I'm sorry'? Really!?" Teeth flashed and green brows furrowed. Was this just a way to keep from accepting his apology? He didn't even know for sure what he had said!

Just as the blond opened his mouth to retort, a sound came from inside his apartment. The distinctive two-toned ring of a doorbell—DINGDONG!—and the cook froze, his knuckles white on the door. Whatever easy sarcasm he'd had on his tongue died. He glanced quickly around, first over his shoulder, presumably at his phone, and then around the hall beyond Zoro like he was looking for something.

Or someone.

Fixing his gaze back on the Marimo, he shook his head, harder than necessary, his hair flopping. "No. I don't. You need to go. I'm busy."

Zoro's good eye flicked across Sanji's features; tight cornered mouth, white knuckles, back up to the eyes where there was suddenly an emotion he didn't want to acknowledge lurking. He nodded stiffly, teeth digging into his bottom lip to halt the immediate reaction. Forcing himself to nod again, he spoke—though not the words he wanted to say.

"Alright. Another time."

The words themselves were clipped, though it took several more seconds before he removed his hand from the door and took a single step back. He knew that sort of look. From guarded to tense in an instant, like Sanji knew danger was coming. Whatever was going on was not right here. It wasn't his business, he told himself; he wasn't going to stick around to make it his business. It was clear enough that the blond wanted to keep it to himself, and as much as he wanted to bang on the door with one fist he was going to stick to that. He was not going to make it his business. He was not!

Even IF the insistence on it and painfully clenched jaw was all that kept him moving towards the stairs instead of going back for the door.

It slammed shut like the reverberation of a gunshot, final and absolute. Whatever was going on with the cook, he was intent on keeping everyone else out. And it was clearly loud enough to be heard all the way down the stairwell if Usopp's confusion was any indication.

He looked up to Zoro as the green-head made his way down the last flight. "That didn't sound like it went well."

The bouncer shook his head. "No... there's something else. He's... I dunno. Not my business, but whatever it was made him slam the door so hard, wasn't me," he said tense and unsettled, looking back up the stairs. "...I'm goin' to bed."

With that abrupt statement, he slipped down the basement steps, taking them two at a time as his hand tightened around an invisible hilt.

"Told you there was something going on yesterday." The sharp-eyed man crossed his arms over his chest and frowned up the stairs, "And I don't like it."

"Ain't our problem, bro. Cook-bro's got a right to his privacy just the same as the rest of us. Anybody what can fight with Zor-bro like that's got a past he don't like sharin'. And you know it." Franky looked down at the others over his sunglasses, the message to think about their own sordid issues clear in his long-lashed eyes.

In the basement, there came the sound of something being hit, repeatedly and hard. Good thing Franky had used his strongest chain to hoist the heavy bag from the ceiling. Still, the sound was loud and angry as it echoed in his ears and up the steps.

Those eyes... the look in them... Zoro knew they were going to haunt him, he knew it down deep in his gut, which churned with rage and sadness for the man he barely knew. But that LOOK... He slammed his knuckles in harder and bared his teeth.

Brook winced as he felt the floor beneath them shudder, "Perhaps we should give Zoro-san some privacy. Grab some food to bring back instead."

"And supports for the building." Franky muttered; his eyebrows climbed nearly to his electric blue hair.

Usopp nodded, following the older two out onto the street again with just another look over his shoulder. Something was going on. Something Zoro understood, at least insofar as it had made him back off from confronting Sanji. And the cook? True, they didn't really know him, but there was just an off quality to the way he'd reacted just now. The part-time sharpshooter couldn't put his finger on it, but he had a crawling sensation like the feeling of a scope on the back of his neck.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:** Song: So Many Roads by Grateful Dead

Extra kudos to anybody that gets to reference I made with Ryuma's advice for Zoro. ^_^


	6. 8 October

**A/N: **Didn't want to sit on this until the weekend, so merry early Yule to you, minna! As usual, Silva-love, is here as Law, and Jennareturns as Ace. Beta-read by the wonderful Ember.

There's some implied stuff here, so folks who are a bit... squeamish about darker relationships should mind the tags as they come up in a couple of chapters.

* * *

><p>Back at the Sunny, Wednesday morning, the Baratie long pulled out of port taking That Person with them, Sanji had finally relaxed after three very intense days. He actually surprised himself, the tension he'd been carrying since Sunday seemed to be drained from his body, and all but for his side where his ribs were still bruised, he was virtually ache free. Well... mostly. He could ignore it. Bruises tended to be slow-healing type things after all. He figured that probably had something to do with how he felt as he moved about the kitchen whipping together breakfast for dinner.<p>

Already he had a buffet lined up on the bar so that people could come and go as they pleased. Nami had warned him that Wednesdays were Painting Days, whatever that meant, and that they weren't open to the public. So, that meant a sit-down dinner with the crew before the public descended on them was literally off the table. Thus he had a mountain of pancakes, bacon, sausage, friend potatoes, and at current moment he was scrambling enough eggs to feed an army platoon. Or at least one Luffy.

What he didn't realize, in the hustle and bustle of the early afternoon, was that he was humming, mumbling words lightly under his breath. _"Je ne sais, ne sais, ne sais pas pourquoi on s'aime comme ça, la seine et moi…"_

Ace peeked into the kitchen, muffling a yawn with his hand and then practically pranced inside. The new guy was distracted by his cooking and… singing? Nice. He was pretty up close too. Very, very nice. Ace grinned, opening the fridge door, snagging up an energy drink and then moved to stand behind their new cook and bartender. That close he could actually make out the words, even if they weren't strictly loud enough to be understood.

"Ooooh you're French? Lu never told me that!"

"AHH!"

The blond jumped nearly three feet, egg flying out of the pan for a moment. He had just enough wits about him to hold out a plate to catch the flying breakfast, before turning back around to the stranger. He muttered something and exhaled slowly.

"Yeah. My family is entirely French, as far as I know. _Maman_, that is, my mother taught me both languages. And you are?"

"Mm." Ace hummed in understanding and opened the can, taking a small sip. He held out his free hand to the blond, and bangles of citrine and sunstone jingled together against a suspended lavender quartz pendant wrapped around his wrist. "Portgas D. Ace. Sanji, yeah? Pleasure to meet ya!"

The cook shook it, with a nod and a small laugh. "I guess you're the other one I'm supposed to guard my fridge against? The last of the infamous D brothers?"

Ace grinned, squeezing the hand before releasing it. "That'd be me, though honestly I'm nowhere near as bad as Lulu is. Honest."

"Pardon my rudeness, but oh thank God! I don't think I could handle more than one of him!" Sanji laughed harder, going back to his eggs to mound them high on the plate he'd used just a moment ago to catch the escaped bits.

"He is a rather excessive eater." Ace leaned back against a counter, sipping slowly at the drink and fighting another yawn. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I can eat _a lot,_ but nowhere NEAR as much as him."

"Heh. Then I guess I'm gonna become your new favorite person. I already know I'm Luffy's."

"Of course you are, you can cook." Ace snickered.

"Oh I'm not just a cook, Ace-chan," Sanji teased, snagging a piece of bacon with a fork and holding it out for the artist to taste, "I'm the cook."

"Oh?"

The brunet raised an eyebrow and leaned in to take the bacon into his mouth, slid it off the fork, and chewed on it thoughtfully. He let out a small delighted sound.

"Mmmm, yes... very, very nice, Sanji-kun!" He pulled back with a grin. "But that's just bacon. I've had a loooot of bacon in my life, and admittedly while it is delicious, it's nothing special."

"Is that so?" There was an air of affected insult about the blond, and he gestured to the bar, "Then by all means, try what you'd like. I stand behind my food."

Ace pushed himself up from the counter and made his way over to the bar. He placed down his drink and snatched up a plate and some utensils to pick and choose from it all.

"Don't mind if I do~! Haven't eaten since lunch yesterday..."

Something made a high pitched whine and it took a moment to realize that something was the cook. His eyes wide, though only one was visible, his face pale, and a storm of confusion reigned all over his expression.

"Good heavens, WHY?!"

Looking up from the plate of sausages he was eyeing, Ace blinked at the cook in confusion. He tilted his head, the light glinted on a red tiger's eye shaped like a spade hanging from his ear. "Something the matter?"

"Y-you can't just _not_ eat! It's not..."

He bit his tongue. Sanji had no right to judge. He didn't know a thing about the other man, and frankly, he wasn't a saint about it either. If he didn't snag bites from what he was cooking as he went, he simply didn't eat all day long.

He seemed a little green at that, "Nevermind. I just... I'm not used to people taking it so casually."

Ace blinked again.

"Aaaah... um." He grinned sheepishly and stabbed a sausage with his fork and dumped it on the plate. "'S not like I didn't eat deliberately, I don't skip meals if I can help it. Nothing to worry about. Was just sleepin'."

"Oh." And then things started to click a little, taking in the brunet's appearance, "Oh! You're the painter! The one that does the murals, right?"

"Yep, that's me." Plate now piled high with different foods, Ace made his way back to his spot at the counter. "Paint 'em whenever I can on Wednesday's, since it's basically a free day for everyone."

"Hmm." Sanji tapped his chin thoughtfully, "I think maybe everyone has a free day because you paint. I haven't been here long, but even I can see the way Miss Nami manipulates everything. Crafty and beautiful. It's a good thing she's got a heart of gold, or I'd be worried for everyone's safety."

The artist tilted his head in the other direction, which revealed a duplicate spade in the other ear. "Huh. Never actually thought about that before. But now that you mention it, it wouldn't surprise me… Nami can be terrifying..."

He took a bite of the sausage and let out a hum of approval, and then tried some of the fried potato.

"An' I gotta say, Sanji-kun, you do cook really well~"

The cook allowed himself to preen a little. It always felt good to have someone appreciate his food. It felt even better when the someone was a freckled cutie in a jumper two sizes too big and splattered with paint. Call him a sucker, but the blond had a thing for the off-the-shoulder, peek-a-boo singlet look. And the legs... Sanji had good legs, they were one of his favorite features, but he couldn't pull off tights like that. Not and retain his masculinity. He let his eyes wander for a second, dancing happily from labret piercing to ear studs to the top of a bold letter A tattooed on his left shoulder, and shook his head, pretending to be responding to the artist's comment.

"This is just simple fare. Something to warm the belly and energize the body for whatever work the day, or in this case night, has to offer."

"Then I can't wait to taste something that's 'not so simple'."

Ace grinned and then started to scarf down the food in a similar fashion that Luffy did. And it was a wonder that he didn't choke. Soon, the plate was clean, and he once again had his drink in hand, sipping at it in content.

Sanji chuckled. "You really are Luffy's brother." Something about the bob of the brunet's Adam's apple and the curve of his neck caught in the cook's mind though. He frowned briefly, "Though... I gotta ask... you're not actually related right?"

"Hmm?" Ace looked at the blond and laughed, before making his way over to the sink to deposit his dirty dishes. "Not really… well... we're cousins. Grew up together."

"There aren't any... other leggy brunets with fantastic asses and adorable freckles hanging around are there?"

"Mmmm nope. That'd just be me." Ace licked his lips with a sassy smirk, hands on his hips in a way that betrayed hidden piercings under his sweater. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, well, see I saw this really hot kiss the other day, and I was pretty sure it was Luffy getting kissed, but y'know... I didn't exactly stick around long enough to really find out too much." The blond smirked back, his nerves about the whole thing hidden deep below his casual at-work mask of two parts flirt, one part ego.

The artist frowned for a moment, thinking, before his expression brightened.

"Ah! When Lu was training? Yeah, that was me, guilty as charged." he sipped at the can, and made a face as he discovered it was almost empty. "Anyway, what about it?" He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "...Something wrong with it?"

Sanji shook his head.

"Unconventional. I don't think I'd be able to do it, growing up with somebody like that and then taking it that way... eh, the guys I did grow up with were just disgusting enough to turn me completely off of them! But hey, it's not like there's any worry for birth defects or whatever, cuz you're both... well, I assume you're both... Ah fuck."

Where had his confidence gone?

"I'm babbling. I always babble when I'm nervous. Sorry."

Why was his mask slipping?! Shit! He could feel it, the way he wanted to be genuine with the freckled brunet. Maybe it was an effect of the last couple of days, having to hide things from That Person all the time.

"No, there's nothing wrong with it. Not to me. I'd just worry about what other people think. I mean, not that I'm not... er... That didn't come out right."

Ace stared at him for a good, long moment, his face blank. He swished the remaining liquid around in the can, before throwing his head back and downing it. After he placed the empty can down on the counter he turned back to Sanji with a grin.

"Hey, no worries! Sorry 'bout that. If it was me that made you nervous that is. I get where you're coming from too, so just relax." He moved over to the fridge and pulled out another can. "I just get a little defensive sometimes. Like you said, I worry about what other people'd think too. It's not like we keep our relationship a secret, but we don't really broadcast it either. But since you're cool with it, really, nothin' to worry about."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It's not my business. I was curious, though that's no excuse. I should've just... let's go back to flirting and pretending that I'm not a complete and total spazz, y—!"

Ace laughed, and leaned in and silenced him with a kiss—just enough to take him by surprise. With a small flick of his tongue across the cook's lips, Ace pulled back with a snicker.

"Like I said, nothin' to worry about, Sanji-kun."

"Nnnngh..."

The blond melted a little. Yup, was definitely a reaction from the weekend. He was still all geared up from seeing That Person he'd forgotten he didn't have to walk on eggshells with everybody else. As such his next response was both too soft, and too high, compared to his normal tone, "...'kay."

"Great then." Calmly, Ace opened his new can and took a sip. "Need any help in here? For... anything?"

"Yeah, I... no. I'm..." The cook shook himself a little, color on his cheeks, and stepped back, pretending to check that the stove was off completely, and gathering little tidbits of things he really didn't need to do. "I'm fine. Thank you. I'm glad you liked dinner. It-It was nice meeting you."

Ace's smile softened and he nodded. "Alright then. Best start painting now before the shakes come on..." He stepped closer to Sanji again and kissed his cheek. "Thank you very much for the food, Sanji-kun. It was delicious."

With that, he turned and exited the kitchen, a bounce in his step.

Sanji watched him go, feeling a bit colder than before now that the bright brunet wasn't filling the room with his personality, and his hand drifted to his cheek absently. "Yeah..."

The feeling didn't last long because just as soon as the sexy artist was out of his sight Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper descended on the bar, having only just then come in from the back lot. The cook assumed from the state of their clothes that they'd been sparring, though he had no idea how Usopp, with his skinny build and cowardly attitudes, could hold his own against the Rubberman, let alone little Chopper.

"Oi! Assholes! Go wash your filthy mugs before you even lay a finger on the food!"

He loomed over them and for a split second it looked like they were going to listen, but then Luffy, trying to be sneaky, inched his hand towards the plate of bacon. Sanji moved faster than all except Zoro had seen before. One second the captain was disobeying orders, the next he was picking himself up off the floor, having crashed through a table in the process.

Both Usopp and Chopper screamed. Then Nami joined them.

"Sanji's trying to kill us!"

"My table!"

This drew the attention of the other girls, as well as Sabo and Franky, who had been messing around with the sound booth only a minute before. Even Zoro looked up from his nap against the steps of the stage. Tension mounted as everyone took in what had happened and began to turn to the suddenly popular cook. One by one they started to draw a not altogether wrong conclusion but just as the furious manager was about to round on Sanji something cut her off.

"Shishishishishi!"

Luffy was _laughing_.

A hand on his head to make sure he still had his hat, the Rubberman picked himself up off the floor and out of the splinters of table to reveal a grin so wide it made his whole face look stretched out.

"Now that's more like it!" He clapped the cook on the shoulder and headed off to the bathroom to wash up, subtly fixing his necklace.

Sanji turned to Nami, who was the only one still watching him. "I-I-I… Miss N-Nami, I can explain I-I-I… it's…"

She held up a hand, bangles jingling, and shook her head, clearing her face with a deep inhale.

"I'll pay for the damages, if… if you want." He tried again.

"Luffy said it was fine, then it's fine. This isn't the first time someone's broken something inside. How do you think the 'No Fighting Inside' rule came into existence, if not for things like this." She sighed again, making her way to the broom closet. "BROOK! Come give me a hand with the table!"

"Yo ho ho ho! On my way, Nami-san! Perhaps this time you'll be gracious enough to let me see your panties after?!" The hippie chortled, dancing off the stage with a graceful leap—

Right into the broomstick in the manager's hand.

"NOT ON YOUR LIFE!"

Whatever response Brook had for her, Sanji didn't hear. He'd already ducked back into the kitchen, heat on his face, and the feeling that someone was watching him closely. He needed to get out of sight. Hide. Get away. Lose himself in his cooking and forget about the ball of anxiety churning in his gut. Maybe a cigarette would help? No, he'd probably anger the beautiful manager further if he stepped outside now. It was better that he just… do what? The food was cooked. Ah! Wash dishes, and it was tucked around behind the wall that had the shelves of alcohol on display for the patrons too. Perfect!

Outside in the dining room, Zoro, Robin, and Ace exchanged a look.

Hours and about two dozen cans of paint later, Sanji wrapped his arms around himself more tightly, marching quickly towards Hack's Café. He was supposed to have met Law almost twenty minutes ago, but Luffy, chasing Chopper because the little doctor-to-be had the last of the cotton candy treats Sanji'd made, had tripped over Ace's ladder, sending the entire bucket of _bright_ blue paint cascading over the edge…

Right over one rather jumpy and very unaware cook.

The captain had apologized, though Sanji doubted his sincerity, and Nami assured him that damages to his suit would be taken care of by Luffy. Whether that meant the Rubberman would be buying him new clothing, or the money would be added to his paycheck, or they were simply going to clean the one they'd damaged? Sanji didn't know. All he did know was that the stunning manager had sent him home without his suit coat. Fortunately, Ace loaned him a jacket, but it wasn't very warm, and it was covered in glitter and sequins. If he hadn't been shivering, his skin would have been crawling.

In any case, all of that meant he had to go home and change before he could meet up with Law, and since he couldn't wear his favorite binder because of the bruises on his ribs, it meant layering more intelligently.

Truth be told he didn't really want to go out, but he'd promised the handsome surgeon another cup of coffee on Monday night via text message. That Person hadn't been happy about that. Which meant Sanji was all the more determined to go through with it, no matter how he felt at the moment.

Jogging the last block, the blond gave Sabo a wave before ducking inside to give a look around.

Law was seated at one of the tables near the wall, his hat hung with his jacket on the back of the chair as he worked on a mess of papers, a pair of thin-framed glasses on the end of his nose and his legs crossed under the table as his pen moved rapidly over the papers. Scattered around him was the real indicator of how long he'd been here; five empty espresso cups stood stacked neatly, lids stuffed inside the cups, next to three much larger mixed coffee cups. From the foam still clinging to the rim of one and the thick smell of chocolate near his table, they had been some sort of mocha. He'd arrived early so as to make up for being late last time and had been there almost forty five minutes.

The line of his back seemed longer, the knobs of his spine visible through his shirt as he practically crouched over the table to get his face closer to... whatever he was working on. His hair was also a mess, rather thrown about even worse than the hat hair Sanji had seen last time, and it became apparent why exactly that was when he lifted his right hand from the papers to shove it into the fluffed black mass and massage his scalp, making it tangle further.

From the way he was camped out, it seemed he was prepared to wait at least an hour or more for his date to arrive. Of course, being an ER doctor made one much more aware how easy it was to fall out of time and wind up running quite late.

The blond didn't even look at the counter as he crossed the shop, "I am so sorry! Luffy spilled the paint, and then Nami tried to mop it up, and I barely got out of there with my shirt on let alone intact to come here, so I had to go home, and I really hope you haven't been waiting that long."

He wasn't blind, he could tell how long it'd been, but it was polite to say that, to pretend that he didn't know. He was also careful not to look at the papers, certain that they were most likely carry over from his shift at the hospital, and though Sanji wasn't entirely confident on what exactly was legal about reading someone else's medical files, he knew on a personal level that they often contained things he most certainly wouldn't want anyone else to find out about. So he turned such that Law would have a chance to gather up the sensitive ones while he unwound a scarf from under his hoodie, and draped both layers over the back of his chair.

Underneath he had a long sleeved tee-shirt that was baggy on his skinny frame, and layered over with a second slightly tighter tee with his favorite band's logo across the front. Even if the shadows hadn't given him away, the way he hunched his shoulders did; he was being good and not wearing his binder. Or anything actually. It felt weird, but he'd rather deal with being on edge from people he didn't know than risk a lecture about how he was going to aggravate his bruising.

Unfortunately what he didn't notice was that turning like that revealed several new dark spots. Things the average person wouldn't recognize, but being a medical professional, the brunet knew how to judge the age of a bruise just from coloration alone. And the line of the blond's jaw, a circle on his wrist, and something that looked suspiciously like a bite mark just above his collar were all less than four days old.

Law quietly filed that information away, but he had no proof; not even a suspicion to go on that it wasn't merely a bit of rough play. Or another fight with Zoro. Or Luffy not watching his strength as he hauled the newest Nakama around. He had absolutely no proof of any of it and no basis for suspicion, though he was suspicious as he began piling the anatomical sketches he'd been reviewing together to put in his bag. It wasn't exactly sensitive information, mostly just review he liked to indulge in to keep his mind sharp, but he found most people were uncomfortable with the graphic nature.

"Ah, it hasn't been long at all, no worries," was what he actually said as he tucked the sketches away. "And there is almost always something that goes wrong on Painting Day. If one outfit doesn't get completely ruined then Ace has had one hell of a bad day and Luffy was probably out sick."

He leaned back and uncrossed his legs under the table to clear the space between them for Sanji to get some coffee if he wanted it, or some pastry or the like.

"Does that actually happen? Luffy getting sick I mean." The cook laughed, taking his seat gratefully. As soon as he was off his feet he let out a half-squashed groan, and he reached down to rub the back of one calf. "I swear that boy is like a living hurricane. Or a tornado? I'm fairly certain I still have bacon stuck to the ceiling."

"To be honest, he doesn't really get sick, thankfully. And yes, he is a living tornado and you probably do have bacon on the ceiling, but I can promise it'll be gone by morning," Law grinned a bit as he drained the last of his current drink and set the cup aside.

"Good, at least that way it isn't wasted." The doctor was good for him; Sanji could feel the left over tension leaving his shoulders. A romantic interest that already knew the details under his clothes? It made the flirting thing so much easier. "I hate to see good food in the trash. Especially my food! And I'm not trying to sound egotistical here, but I make damn good food."

"Oh I know. I've had Luffy telling me every spare moment he has about how good your food is," he laughed softly. "He's been telling everyone he knows… everyone that will listen, and even some strangers who seemed rather alarmed at suddenly being screamed at that 'Sanji makes the best food in the worlddddddd'."

His grin stretched wider on one side than the other as he elongated the word to convey the enthusiasm with which Luffy proclaimed his skill.

"Oh God." Sanji covered his mouth with his hand, laughing and grinning. "That would explain the text my brother sent me this morning."

"Oh dear me, what did he hear? I'm almost afraid to ask."

"He said one of his customers told him to hire me because a... hang on, I'll read it to you."

Snagging the phone out of his hoodie pocket unwittingly revealed another of those bite marks, this time on the other side, and the skin had clearly been broken in a few places because there was a ring of slight scabbing in the center of the bruise.

But the blond seemed not to notice as he pulled up the message, "He says, 'Prince, heard you were making an impression at your new place. Being told to hire you because a strange bouncy man in a straw hat keeps complimenting your food. Something you need to share?'"

Law added that to his mental catalogue even as he burst out laughing. "That's exactly what he's doing. I almost feel sorry for your brother, he's going to get a lot of that. However, do warn him not to feed Luffy under any circumstances, otherwise it'll be his turn next."

"Oh, trust me, Alex already knows about Luffy." Sanji shook his head fondly, "It's because of Luffy the place is even doing as well as it is. He goes there after every match when he's in town."

"Oh! Your brother is at Rain Dinners? Be careful, or Luffy might just adopt you to get access to excellent food. Not that he hasn't already adopted you, but much moreso." The brunet realized his cup was empty only when he tried to take another drink, and blinked down at the little smears of chocolate on the bottom. "Did you want anything to drink? I appear to need a refill."

"I would kill for a caramel mocha that I don't have to fix myself."

"Soy or almond milk, yes?"

He remembered from the last time. He was a doctor, after all, and assuming an allergy of some sort, had added it to the growing 'file' in his head about the handsome blond.

"Yeah, that's probably smart." The cook blushed lightly, and internally blinked at himself because he hadn't even been thinking about it. He'd been wrapped up in the conversation.

Law smiled again and nodded, pacing up to the counter.

"Koala, I have to impose on your excellent coffee-making skills yet again," he began, the edges of his eyes crinkling in a grin, "I simply must throw myself on your mercy, I cannot _live_ without another of your large mochas, and Sanji is in need of a caramel mocha with soy and almond milk. Please," he added on the end with the best begging eyes he could make. He had, after all, bothered her almost ten times in less than an hour for more coffee.

The barista laughed merrily, "Anything for my two favorite workaholics!" She brought the order over in almost half the time, having started Sanji's the moment he walked in the door, and gave Law a winning smile, "Why if it weren't for your caffeine addictions, I might just be out of business."

The brunet chuckled, his lip ring glinting when it pulled to the side. He was only wearing one today, instead of both because he'd lost the end to the other one this morning and still hadn't found it.

"Ah, but it is my pleasure to support your excellent skill. Also, how bad is my tab? I know I forgot to pay at least three times over the last couple weeks."

"Not too bad until tonight. If you want I'll take it out on the lay-about on the curb." She winked, knowing he was going to pay, but wanting to tease Sabo for stalking the couple.

He looked out at said 'lay-about' and his eyes danced. "As tempting as that is, I'd better settle up myself. Otherwise he's likely to tattle on me and I'll wake up painted green. Or purple. Or blue. _Again_. I don't think I ever got all the blue paint out of my hat the last time."

"That's just because he thinks you wear too much black. Picking on Sabo is an excuse to give in to the urge." The register dinged with the printout for Law to sign. "Are you covering Sanji's too?"

"Of course. I asked him out for coffee, not the other way 'round. He can pay next time, presuming there is a next time," he chuckled gently. "Besides, if I give him a 'gift' of the coffee, maybe it won't be such a large shock when I give him the present I already got him for today."

Koala shook her head, adding the caramel mocha, "Someday, Mr. Crow, your shinies are going to come back to bite you in the rear. If he kicks you, I am not picking you up off the floor."

"If he kicks me I better pick myself up off the floor, otherwise Daddy didn't teach me a damn thing," he replied simply as he picked them both up in his hands after handing over the cash to cover his tab and headed back to the table.

He couldn't even dispute the 'crow' or 'shinies' comment. It was all too accurate really.

Sanji looked up from his phone like Law was a godsend, pouncing on the drink as soon as the darker man handed it to him. The first drink was accompanied by a moan that really had no place being legal in public, his eyes closed and phone forgotten on the table. It vibrated twice, but he didn't even notice, too enthralled with his mocha.

The surgeon chuckled as he sat down and sipped his own, just luxuriating in Sanji's obvious enjoyment. He used the hand in his pocket to carefully adjust his pants before pulling the small velvet box out and turning it in his hands.

"Hmmmm." The blond melted, and sighed happily, then all at once said, with an embarrassed chuckle, "Yes. By the way. About Rain Dinners and Alex. I hadn't answered you before. Too focused on coffee."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens," Law replied easily, smiling again.

A muscle in his cheek twinged and he realized he probably hadn't smiled this much in such a short time span since he'd first dated Luffy and Ace and Sabo. Not that he didn't smile while with them, but that giddy first-couple-dates energy that made smiles come easier was gone from the comfortable, loving relationships he already had. There really wasn't anything quite like New Relationship Energy.

"But yeah, have you been there? You said you're Luffy's league official doctor." With both hands wrapped around his cup, Sanji tucked his feet up on the rung of the chair, pointedly ignoring the phone as it vibrated again.

"Once or twice. My hospital shifts don't leave as much time as I'd like for leisure dinners, not even for my friend's championship dinners. Or sponsor dinners. Or any of the myriad other occasions Luffy comes up with to eat there," Law crossed his ankles and sipped his own drink, fingers still idly spinning the box on the tabletop.

Like a flare, the thing caught the blond's attention, "What's that?"

"A present for you." A flick of his clever fingers and it slid across the table to gently bump the other's elbow. "I figured it wouldn't get in the way when you cook. I would have got you something much nicer but everyone I know says I way overdo it with my starting gifts so I tried to dial it back. Some."

"But we've only... ahh?"

Color lit up his cheeks as he opened it, and the moment his eyes landed on the charm was obvious. His mouth moved but no sound came out. Gaze darting from necklace to... were they boyfriends now? Was that what this meant? Sanji didn't know, but... wow... It was... wow... Was that _real_ gold?! And... and... _sapphires?!_ ON A SECOND DATE?! The cook's inner child squealed at the magnitude of the present, lifting it gently from the box so he could watch the light reflect from it suspended on his fingers. He brought it back down, thumb tracing the S-shaped charm tenderly.

"A-are you sure?! It's... it... I... you... for me!?" He actually looked like he might cry.

"I… yes, was I wrong? Will it get in the way when you cook? I wanted to get you a bracelet or ring, but I thought those might get in the way," he almost stammered, taken aback (as always) by the reaction. "And well, people with one allergy tend to have others, so I figured real gold was safest to prevent a possible skin reaction, but if it's no good—" Law was babbling, he knew he was, but he couldn't seem to help it.

Instead of trying to come up with some kind of answer, Sanji just surged across the table and kissed him, hard! What? It had worked when Ace did it to him that morning! And he really did like the necklace. It was perfect!

Yep, that worked, and Law settled into kissing him back easily, his hand coming up to cup his jaw gently.

A brush of thumb across brand-new bruise though made the blond wince, breaking their kiss. He pulled back trying to subtly shift the doctor's hand back up his cheek so that they could continue the touching, but away from where it hurt on his jawbone. The tiny flare of pain shot the memory of how he'd received said bruise through his mind. He desperately wanted to just continue the impromptu making out, even if they were in danger of spilling their coffee.

Law paused, something was... off. Something was off in Sanji's posture. He was listing. Just a little, anyone else would never have noticed. But Law was a doctor, and Sanji was... _favoring_. He pulled back all at once, his eyes darting down to his side. Yes, his arm on that side had the elbow tucked in protectively, not by that much, but he was clearly favoring his bruised ribs.

After several days, the pain should have abated enough he no longer needed to favor, and his eyes found Sanji's again with concern and worry, and an undercurrent of anger. Of 'what did you do to that rib'. Not the kind of anger that would have him lashing out, but the anger that said he knewhe'd been hurt further.

"Ah, sorry, I ran into my door this weekend. The mosshead is apparently living downstairs now, and he sort of chased me up the steps, and I tried to close the door, but he's a wall of bricks, I swear to God!" The cook's lip tucked up between his teeth, and his eyes immediately darted away to the floor. "I must've... made it worse. I haven't been binding though! I promise! I didn't even wear... um..."

"Sanji." The doctor's voice held a quiet firmness that cut through the excuse. "Something has put pressure on that rib. I can see you favoring it. The only reason it would still be hurt is if there was pressure. If you didn't bind, you did something and running into a door wasn't it."

"Can... can we not do this? Here? At least..." The tone of his voice was small, defeated, "Can we just... go back to me kissing you about the necklace?"

Law's face softened.

"...Okay. I hear chefs are excellent with their tongues maybe if you distract me really well I'll forget the question," he proposed in an attempt to lighten the air.

"I certainly try to be." Sanji ghosted a smile and shifted carefully around the table to recapture Law's mouth.

Law let him lead, bringing his hand to his cheek where Sanji had put it earlier and breathing deeply of his scent as he parted his lips in invitation.

After a few minutes of memorizing the surgeon's flavor, the cook pulled back again, this time smiling and gloriously kiss-flushed. "We didn't quite make it that far last time, but... would you like to come back to my place for a drink or something?"

His question wasn't at all subtle, but he hoped that Law could read the undertone of 'yes, we can finish that conversation to a certain extent once we're in private'. He even allowed the curtain of his bangs to fall back so that both sapphire blue eyes could look up into gold hopefully.

The brunet rubbed their noses together with a soft little croon in the back of his throat. "Yes. Why don't we do that," he took his hand in his own and kissed him again, just a little peck. "Don't forget your coffee," he added as he picked up the box, still open, to hand to Sanji.

"Yes. Coffee. Right."

Sanji's thoughts collided a bit as he took the box and stood quickly. There was a moment's pause before he clasped the brilliant gold and sapphire S around his neck, just long enough that he could look down and see it where it rested on his shirt. Then he covered it with his hoodie, wrapped the scarf around his neck, and tucked the box into his pocket. Now that Law was aware of it, it was clear that all of the blond's movements were favoring his right side. Including the somewhat muted dance over to Koala for a refill on his mocha.

Law observed it carefully, and noted he might want to get a shorter chain. That one hung a tad low. Another note to add to the file as he waited patiently for Sanji's refill and ruefully accepted one of his own. As it was his mouth was probably still going to taste like coffee and chocolate when he woke up tomorrow.

The cook barely flirted with the pretty barista, causing her to glance worriedly at the doctor when Sanji turned his back, and as they made their way out of the cafe, Sabo looked up from his acoustic, never breaking song, to watch them go, also touched with worry. It was likely the two had different reasons, but then again, the vibrant gentle-cook had wormed his way into the middle of their group with the same sort of delicacy and grace as he'd displayed in his food. Though it wasn't yet obvious to him, the entire extended staff of the Thousand Sunny saw him as Nakama. Regardless that it had been less than a week since he'd joined them.

Law tried to signal to Sabo that it was alright, but he wasn't sure he managed it as he hurried to keep up with Sanji's quick stride. They had legs of comparable length, but Sanji was definitely much faster on his feet, so it took real concentration to keep up.

It took a couple of blocks before the cook realized, "Oh! Sorry." He slowed his pace a little and gave a little shrug, another sheepish smile, "Kitchens. You move fast or you get run over."

Law smiled back. "Indeed. Surgeons, on the other hand, have to be perfectly still; shifting at the wrong moment unconsciously can be lethal. But thank you for slowing."

"You should've said something sooner. I'm forever outpacing my friends, either by being taller or faster. I honestly don't notice I'm doing it anymore unless I'm specifically concentrating on keeping pace with them."

The brunet sipped on his mocha and shrugged.

"I'm used to running to keep up, actually. I'm used to following after people with much longer legs," he said a little carefully as he offered his hand to Sanji's, thumbs barely brushing.

Sanji gladly wove their fingers together, and brought the inked knuckles up to his lips to press a careful kiss to them. "Still. It's only considerate to walk _with_ one's date." A twinkle of desire curled in the corner of his mouth over Law's hand, "Especially when inviting someone up for the first time."

"I wouldn't call it the first… well, perhaps it's more accurate, considering you brought me to my knees the last time we were out on a date," Law teased back, his own eyes having a low glitter of their own. "Though I admit I like you at my side much better."

"That was entirely your own fault, Mr. Sexy Voice! You give me that kind of serenade, even if you _don't_ know how much of a romantic I am, and then expect me to just _walk_ home?! That. Just. Wasn't. Fair." The blond leaned into his arm, using his shoulder to take pressure off of his ribs, "You can't blame me for needing to return the favor."

The other laughed gently. "Indeed. However I think I might have to return the favor to you, as well. I admit not having gotten such excellent… and surprising… rewards for my singing in a long time and I do desire to give you a similarly exciting experience."

"Hmm..." Sanji sounded coy. "We'll see." Then he danced away a little and up the three steps that was the front of his apartment building, "This is me, fourth floor. Still wanna come up?"

"I am no stranger to stairs, I promise," Law replied, not letting go of his hand as he skipped up the stairs after him.

"There is an elevator but it's been broken for so long I don't think anybody even remembers it's there half the time. Mostly we use it as a message board for the landlord." The cook laughed, gesturing to the poster-littered corner of the entranceway beyond the door leading to the basement and mounted the first flight up.

Part of him hoped the marimo was listening, since the hallway echoed and noise was always filtered down to the laundry room, but he didn't poke too hard at that feeling. It almost felt like he wanted the green-haired bastard to be jealous! But that was just ridiculous! If anything, the pain in his ass should have been pissed off that he was happy! See, asshole? Trans people can have healthy dates with sexy doctors too! He didn't have to be a 'lady' to get laid! Or be worth someone's time!

And money!

His hand drifted over the necklace with a fond smile at Law. He really didn't want to admit how long it had been since someone had given him something like that. Well, someone outside of his family. Not since That Person had first started taking interest in him when he was nineteen! Almost... he did some quick mental math... seven years ago! It floored him a little, and on the final flight of stairs, he leaned into Law's shoulder again. He had no idea what they'd been talking about, but he was so, so, so grateful that the doctor had thought him worthy of presents.

Law leaned back on him and kissed his cheek, unaware of Sanji's thoughts but watching him touch the necklace made the ball in his guts feel fuzzy and happy. He'd made someone happy with a present!

He hummed as they reached the landing of the fourth floor and dropped another kiss on him with a little squeeze of his hand.

Unlocking the door revealed a neat, well-lived-in home. It was clear the cook had been living here for a while. The first room had two large, plush couches framing a decent, if second-hand, television set. A few shelves around it had movies on them, and the entire runs of Iron Chef, Good Eats, and Hell's Kitchen. Beyond that was an island, bar stools on one side, and the kitchen... oh the kitchen! Stainless steel appliances, spotless pale blue counters, honey-tone maple cabinets of every shape and size, and a walk-in pantry that looked like it used to be the coat closet from where it was positioned between the front door and the kitchen. That certainly explained the row of hooks on the other side. If Sanji had plastered over the original door to the closet so he could access it from the other side, he would have had to put up something to cover the change on the side next to the entrance of the apartment. Bookshelves lined the other wall between the kitchen and a door that Law could only assume was the bedroom, or possibly bathroom? It was hard to tell, but there was only one other door, so it had to be both somehow.

"Can I offer you anything? Tea, coffee, something to eat? Wine?" Sanji pulled his hoodie off and tucked his shoes in the corner under the hook.

Law lifted his coffee. "No, unless you happen to have some chips or something else around, because you're favoring even more than you were and I would prefer you not stand too long so I can examine you… in the purely professional sense for the moment… and see what, exactly, you did to your ribs."

"Right…" The blond winced, and sighed, knowing he wasn't getting out of it. "I do. Give me a moment."

He stepped off to the kitchen, pulling a box of something out of his fridge. The way he moved in his element was no less graceful, but he was definitely favoring his right side. And he seemed to avoid one end of the island. He skirted it around the other side multiple times in his path back and forth warming up the snack. Though it only took five minutes exactly from Tupperware box to plate, he was obviously dreading the examination.

Setting the plate down on the table that had been hidden behind the back of the couch that faced the door, Sanji sighed again, "Just shirtless, or do you need to look me all over?"

Oh how he wished that question was actually as lewd as it sounded in his head.

"My main concern is your ribs, but if I find anything else there, I will need to give you an entire once over," Law replied as he nibbled at the snack between sips of his coffee.

He was perfectly willing to give Sanji all the time he needed to come to terms with his exam and even stall on getting undressed as much as he liked, but he definitely wasn't letting him wriggle out of it.

"Might as well start there then..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:** Song: Vanessa Paradis and M - La Seine


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Hey, minna~! We've got some heavier stuff in this chapter, a panic attack, some references to some not-so-nice history for both boys, and from some angles you could call the end dubious consent. Or at least consent that would have been retracted if Sanji moved faster. So, if any of that bothers you, tread carefully. but rest assured, Law isn't actually raping his boyfriend! If he could read Sanji's mind none of these issues would have ever cropped up. Law here was my beloved Silva, and was once again Beta'd by Tsuris. Thanks guys! Ja ne~!

* * *

><p>Sanji stepped around the coffee table, already pulling his shirts off. True to form he wasn't wearing anything under them, though there was a third shirt, a racerback, under the two tees. However, that wasn't what drew the doctor's attention. Sanji's entire right side, from armpit to hip, was black and blue, deep purple in the center where the corner of something had scraped him, and a telltale line around the crease under his breasts spoke of having worn <em>something<em> while he wasn't supposed to.

Once again, he crossed his arms over his chest, hiding the parts that shouldn't have been there, and the angle of his body screamed that he wanted to hunch his shoulders away from his date's expert eye.

Law's mouth dropped open and he almost dropped his coffee. As it was he set it down with a shaky THUD. "Oh my god, Sanji! What _happened?!_ The last time I saw bruising this bad a motorcycle rider had had his FULL DRESSER fall on him! And is that a—you used a bra? That's worse than BINDING; it puts literally _all_ that pressure on your ribs!"

His hands were roaming, pressing and palpitating as gently as he was able, and his expression displayed utter fear for his date.

"This is bad, from the look of this you might even need surgery if any of your ribs have been pushed out of place, which from this kind of damage they very well might have been!"

"No. No, I know they aren't. It's fine. I just... need to take it easy. I'll be fine. Honest. I know I'm not a doctor, but please, trust me. I'm fine."

Sanji's voice wavered with the flinches he was squashing. He could refuse his body's unconscious response to pain, just how often did he have to put up with it?! He was shaking his head, and he sounded confident that he knew what he was talking about in spite of it.

"It was the door. I told you, the mosshead's gotta be made of solid steel or something."

"That didn't fly the first time and it won't this time either! The deepest part of the bruising is the spot here," Law passed his hand over it, but ceased to press, satisfied that he felt no breaks, "and a door would have made uniform bruising. Do not bullshit me! I have SEEN these signs a hundred thousand times."

While he talked, he moved. Until his hands came down to grip the counter, one pulling tight over the corner—the corner that was about at the perfect height to put that bruise on the blond's side.

"It was the door." Sanji wouldn't look him in the eye, but his tone was cold.

He kept his eyes firmly on the doctor's chin. If there was something in the apartment that would betray his lie, the blond made no sign that it existed. It was infuriating, but really, what right did anyone have to pry into Sanji's private life. Law himself had only been on two dates with him, and the others probably didn't even know what kind of stress relief the cook enjoyed. It was likely they hadn't thought about it yet either. He'd only been working at the Sunny for just under a week. Even in a small part of the city like Kokoyashi, it was hard to know everyone. Koala might not even know what was going on.

And it was clear the cook was in no mood to share.

"...Very well." In a moment, the doctor had his phone out and was texting rapidly. "I don't like to do this, but for the sake of your health I have to. And I apologize in advance for this, but you're about to get some paid vacation days. About..." he looked up again to evaluate. "Four days. And if you protest," he held up a hand, "there will also be a guard dog."

"You have no right!" The blond growled, fury in his eye. "You aren't my doctor. You aren't on the clock, and the only reason I let you look at all is because I thought I could trust you." Though he was shorter, and injured, Sanji drew himself to his full height, barely able to keep his mouth from turning into a snarl. "You make that call, all you'll do is prove I was wrong." His hand touched the necklace, bright against his pale skin, "Was I wrong, Law?"

Law looked at him steadily, but the corners of his mouth were tight.

"And trusting me means I have to let you go to work like _that_ without so much as a warning to Chopper not to let you lift heavy shit? 'Trusting me' means I have to deliberately go back on my oaths as a doctor and a person and let you hurt yourself further through sheer stubbornness? You fucking tripped into this counter with your full bodyweight at the very least! Slipped or whatever the fuck happened to you, you fell on this corner with _force_, Sanji, I can see that if I was fucking blind, and I have to watch someone I motherfucking care about try and fucking WORK on ribs ONE TAP away from BREAKING like a goddamn champagne glass?! Is that what you're fucking demanding of me?"

He couldn't help the way his voice rose, nor help when it broke, his hands fists on the countertop. This was like watching his father with bruises after Chemo and still trying to pretend he was 'fine'. Watching his uncle crying at his twin's bedside but still trying to paste on a smile when he noticed the doctor in the doorway. Just the thought of watching another person he cared about push themselves until they strained at the seams pretending… it got underneath his skin and sent heat prickling up to his eyes.

"No! It means you trust me to know the limits of my own body! I'VE HAD BROKEN RIBS BEFORE! I've had that surgery! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING! I DO NOT NEED TO BE BABYSAT LIKE SOME CHILDISH **WOMAN**!" Sanji screamed the last word. "You think I don't know what I look like? That I don't know about the bruises? That clearly, I can't POSSIBLY know how far to push myself! I'm just some dumb blond, right? How could I have even survived the rest of my life without your expertise, Doctor-sama, please, enlighten me to the limits of MY OWN BODY! I may hate it most of the time, but goddamnit it's mine! And... and fuck..."

His hand flew to his mouth, the crawling feeling of his emotions trying to overtake his bodily functions had him shaking his head, and striding quickly towards the closed door on the other side of the living room.

"This isn't over." His teeth were clenched against the nausea. "I know..." he hiccupped, "I know what I'm doing."

"And I know what you're doing and I can't watch this a second time! I can't fucking do it, I can't—I can't watch this happen again, I can't stand watching another blond bastard trying to be strong and getting hurt. I can't fucking do this again! I saw the aftermath of this once, I can't fucking watch this anymore, Cora!"

Law's eyes shrank in shock the same moment his hands clapped to his mouth.

"I… I… Shit! Shit! FUCK," he strode over to the window and stuck his head out of it. "FUUUUUCKKKK!"

Talented hands pulled at the brunet's shoulders, forcing him back inside with more strength than he looked like he had. Then there was a glass of water in front of his face, and two pills. Someone was talking to him, the words were muffled in the distance. They fought for a while, Law wanting nothing more than to go back to the window, until the floor came up to meet him and he had some kind of weight on his chest.

A single sentence broke through the madness, "GODDAMNIT TAKE IT BEFORE I SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR SHITTY THROAT DRY!"

Dry swallowing pills could erode the lining of the throat, the information popped in with no context, unattached, out of the ball of white noise that seemed to be all that filled the empty space inside him. A tangled ball of a million colors, but he held to the only thing that had emerged out of it. Dry swallowing pills could ruin the esophagus. A little more struggling and he managed to connect this to the two white pills being shoved against his hand and jaw, and to the glass of water nearby. He mustn't swallow those dry, but he was threatening to make him...?

There should have been another thought. A solution between these two things. Eventually, that came to him too, though sluggish and slow, as though something else was trying to snatch it away from his grasping.

Take the pills. Yes. Take the pills and swallow the water, that wrapped the whole thing up quite nicely. Yes. Why hadn't he already done that? Why not? Why... not. Law found himself with the pills on his tongue and the water in his hand without any recollection of actually causing either of those things, but he was at least conscious of sipping the water and swallowing the pills. Yes. Yes now that was wrapped up nicely.

Now could he go back to screaming out the window?

The weight on his chest didn't move, if anything, it got heavier as the whatever-it-was settled back onto its heels, holding him down against the wall. That much was clear. He wasn't exactly lying on the floor as he'd previously thought. Which sort of explained why he was able to drink without choking or spilling water anywhere. At least as far as he knew. The something was talking again, though the words were spotty and not really filtering through. It sort of sounded like an apology? Why would the weight be apologizing?

There was a _shnkt _and _fwoosh _of a lighter, then the scent of cigarette smoke wafted through the air.

"Smokin'll kill you."

The thought popped into his head like the last one, out of context, but this time it also made its way casually out of his mouth, which he wasn't sure how he did it because his mouth felt wooden and immobile.

"Throat cancer almost killed you once already. Smokin' kills. Kills slow and nasty. Suffers. Smokin'..."

His eyelids fluttered as he made an effort to string a line of thoughts together. It was surprisingly hard, though it was becoming possible, slow and laboring.

"My head hurts. And my throat. And my hands," he said slowly, able to connect these together but not sure why they went together or how.

He looked down and turned his hands over to show the palms. The middle was red and raw, though he wasn't sure how they came to be that way. Didn't much matter right now, that was why it hurt. One thing explained.

"You back with me, doc?" The voice wasn't rough or tinny like it should have been. It was a smooth tenor, touched with concern and the eyes... blue... deeper than Cora's. "Tch. You call me the idiot. Stay put."

The weight moved for a moment, but was back before he even fully realized it was gone. Then something cold washed over the painful parts of his hand.

"You need yours as much as I need mine you know. My Old Man woulda kicked you senseless for that. He's stickler for protecting your hands. Always has been. Taught me to fight with my feet so they wouldn't be risked when I had to defend myself. He'd have told you the same thing growing up if you'd been around." The voice dropped in mimicry of someone else, "If you're gonna break a window, use your shoulder, dumbass, he'd say. Keeps you from fucking up your grip. And you need your grip to be a good surgeon, little fruit bat."

"I broke a window? Shit." He blinked a few times, and then squeezed them shut. "And... not a fruit bad. Bat. Snow leopard. 'Cuz of the spots. Where's Cora?"

He still had a nagging sense he was missing something, and he wanted his dad. He felt like shit. Hell, either of his dads would do. He had a feeling like the floor and wall were rocking around him, and he needed an anchor. Though the blond in front of him was doing really well at that.

"At home."

Sanji didn't know that for certain, but he definitely recognized a panic attack when he saw one. It was _likely_ given that it was almost four a.m., but some people might not yet. The cook prayed that he was right. It was important to keep the brunet as calm as possible until the meds kicked in. Probably not good drug behavior, but the surgeon wasn't due at the hospital for at least twelve hours.

"And fruit bats have spots too. Just like the ones on your knuckles."

"Hrm. I s'pose some of them do. Still, I do not accept this moniker. I like Uncle's much better," Law sniffed a bit. "And I guess Cora should be home. Probably sleeping by now. Gets tired quicker. Uncle around? Or did he take Cora home?"

He tried to remember date and time. If Cora was out of the hospital was he with Croc or Don? Was Law on shift? No, no that didn't feel like the right missing space in his memory.

"I'm sure they're all at home, probably sleeping, yeah. Now c'mon, sexy boy, I'm not so good at this side of the situation. Look at me. Really look at me."

A hand tapped his cheek, trying to get him to focus, and worried that two might have been too much. They had the same build though, and when Sanji was that far gone he always needed two.

Law did his best to do as asked, his eyes narrowing as he took in the features of the person in front of him. Strong cheekbones... narrow build. Unique eyebrows... His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"...Sanji? What are you doing in the cancer ward?"

"We're not at the hospital, huny. We're in my apartment. You had a panic attack. Look around. Careful now. Don't need you getting dizzy or some shit like that."

Law sat forward to look around a bit, blinking in confusion. "I had a... oh dear." He put a hand to his head. "It appears the therapist was wrong about having figured out how to manage those flashbacks if I broke a window. And screamed, from the feel of my throat."

Sanji waved him off, leaning over to stub out his cigarette. "Can't predict triggers. It just happens. Don't worry about it. I mean, bring it up to your therapist, but I can't fault you for something I know all too well personally. I have the kettle on the stove waiting to be re-heated whenever you think you can handle getting up. I've found tea to be therapeutic to both the body and the mind." Here he bit his lip and frowned a little, "I hope you don't have any kind of allergies or adverse reactions to Ativan... it's all I had on hand."

The brunet shook his head. "None. I'm lucky in that I've got no known allergies to medications. And tea sounds very good. Very good indeed. Getting up, on the other hand, sounds a bit harder."

He managed a weak little smile as he rubbed the goose egg on the back of his head.

"Ah... yeah... that, uh..." The blond blushed harder, backing up and standing with a guilty smile. "I may have... kicked you... away from the window. I don't have a fire escape, and you seemed intent on climbing it anyway."

"Oh. Well I can't fault you for that, my mother's apartment had a fire escape I would shimmy down whenever she got... difficult to bear. But perhaps some ice is also in order." Law rubbed his forehead to try and smooth away the ache.

"Sure." Sanji was across the apartment and back again with an ice pack in a flash. How long had he been out of it that the cook was so well-prepared?! He wore an understanding smile, "For me it was my bedroom. The Old Man was fair, but he had a heavy hand, and you know how kids blow everything out of proportion. I had a hell of a temper, and anytime he cuffed me I'd run off to my room at the top of the ship. _Maman_ would come find me after awhile. She always explained what I'd done wrong. Think that was what I missed most after she died."

He crouched down to offer the ice and spoke easily. The tone of his statement about her death suggested it had been a long time ago, meaning he had come to terms with the loss.

"Ah, you were a lucky one, then. Mine didn't want me at all and kept impressing on me that I was an accident and if I wasn't an excuse to extort my biological sire for money she would have either aborted me or drowned me in the river like an unwanted dog." Law replied

He wondered vaguely why he couldn't seem to watch his mouth or moderate what he said. He was usually gentler and less explicit than that on this particular topic. He took the ice and applied it.

"Then when I started developing the spots she screamed 'disease' and dropped me on his doorstep without a look back. He could deal with his 'defective accident' and pay for my care, she said."

"Well, I may not be able to undo the damage she did, but for what it's worth, I think your spots are damn sexy." Sanji rolled onto his knees fluidly and kissed the one on Law's temple that he'd played with on their first date. "Is Cora your dad then? You... um... You called out for him during your flashback."

"Ah, yeah, that's his name. Well, no, it's not, his real name is Rocinante, but he hates that name so everyone who knows him calls him Cora. And thank you for finding them sexy, I was quite glad to find out they weren't, in fact, a virus I could pass on to anyone," the other smiled a bit more and decided trying to get up was a good idea. It was going to hurt, but it was worth the attempt.

Sanji snorted, "I know very little about medicine outside of my own experience, but even I know vitiligo isn't contagious!"

The blond let him move on his own, and when he was certain that the other wasn't going to fall over, he stood himself so he could grab the tea kettle for them both. Law's cup was chamomile with honey and lemon, Sanji's was mint with a touch of ginger. When both were relocated to one of the big couches, he leaned in—from the left—with his feet tucked up on the cushion in such a way that had he been any less flexible would have put serious strain on his ribs.

"I'm sorry about before. And I know it's a stupid question because this kind of thing never really is, but are you okay?"

Law smiled around his cup. "I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to push. And I'm... I'll be alright. Dad is actually in remission now, I just... the Chemo almost killed not only him, but everyone who had to watch him struggle. And he tried so hard to pretend it was all just fine, it was ok, the bruises didn't hurt and it wasn't next to impossible to hold down food, and just watching him pretend... that hurt worse than knowing he was in pain, really."

He sipped at his cup again and kissed Sanji's temple.

"Believe me, I'm not pretending. This hurts like a bitch! I just know how to handle it. Like I said, I'm used to rib issues. I've been binding since I was thirteen, and not always safely." Sanji cringed, knowing how bad that was now. "I didn't get my first real binder for almost a year and a half, and it took my brother smacking me across the back of the head after my third broken rib to actually get me to wear it. I didn't think it did as good a job. I thought if I could still see them, everybody could, but I know better now! Honest! It's just doing that, I know how far to push my body before it can't take any more. All I meant earlier, and I admit when I'm pissed off my words come out shitty as hell, was that I trust you, don't you trust me?"

Law leaned his head on his companion's. "Yes, I trust you to know your own limits. But I'm a doctor; I know how weak and fragile humans are. I have to live with how easily humans die every day. I scare very, very easily."

Sanji was quiet for a moment, then he smirked and licked his lips, tongue chasing the taste of mint from his upper lip, "Want me to show you just how alive I am?"

"Finish your tea first," the other nudged him playfully. "I'm still letting the Ativan kick all the way in. But after that, yes, most certainly."

"I find Alton Brown to be a very good cure for residual panic, and it gives me a good timer for how long I need to wait to see if I need to take another one."

The interest wasn't gone, but if Law wasn't ready to move past it yet, Sanji was all for finding distractions. He leaned forward and snagged the TV remote from the table basket without spilling a drop of his tea.

"Sounds like a plan. And cuddling. My dad's very affectionate, cuddling helps a lot," Law leaned into Sanji and tucked his own feet up after kicking off his shoes.

"Cuddling is my middle name!"

The cook popped on the show, snuggling deep into the cushion with a happy sound. He wrapped both hands around his mug after the episode started to play and used both the physical contact with the brunet and the heat from the tea to soothe what was left of his own issues. Focusing on Law was a good distraction as long as his adrenaline was still high, but once it wore off entirely, Sanji knew all of his previous anxiety would hit him like a ton of bricks. Though hopefully not as bad from his own dose of Ativan and pain killers for the bruises.

Law let the meds do their work, purring into Sanji's shoulder as the episode subsided, and by the end of the dvd he was gently caressing Sanji's shoulder.

"Mmmm. I think I'm good, I feel much better now."

"Hmmm, good."

Tea long since gone and meds kicked in, it was time to forget about the stupid fight and its consequences.

Sanji left the TV on for background noise as he turned to press his lips against Law's throat, savoring the doctor's taste. His hand skittered over the other's chest letting his nimble fingers trace the contours through his shirt. He slid his hips around to straddle a leg and put himself into the brunet's lap. He wanted to chase any remaining negativity away with a vengeance.

That idea appeared to be shared between both men, as Law helped the other into his lap, hands coming up his back to sneak under the shirt that had somehow reappeared on the blond's lanky frame. The brunet chalked it up to the gap in his memories that he now knew had been his panic attack and flashback, but regardless, it needed to go! He wasn't about to let his gorgeous date do all the work this time.

Hands in his hair, hands on his hips, and very little space between them as Sanji's mouth met Law's. Again and again and again, both aiming to make the other breathless.

The doctor reached down after pulling the offensive article of clothing from the cook's body and massaged the amazing muscles of his hips. This was Sanji's powerhouse! Where all of that damage had come from! And oh did that turn him on like nothing else! He wanted to worship it, and all of the cords of muscle he could feel shifting as Sanji's spine curled.

So flexible! It was almost like fooling around with Luffy, but with some other quality that was just… Mmmm!

When had Sanji's hands wormed their way into his belt? He wasn't sure but damn if it hadn't arrested his thought process when those amazingly talented fingers wrapped around his shaft.

It took until Law realized the blond was shifting and squirming to get down before he remembered he wasn't going to have Sanji do all the work. So, he tightened his grip on the other's rear end, drawing a sinful sound from his lips, and twisted his torso to line them up on the couch. It was both better for Sanji's ribs to be supported, and made it easier for Law to duck below the blond's breasts.

He knew better than to mess with them this time. He remembered from before that Sanji had pulled away, and that combined with the way he held himself when he was shirtless added up to a no-fly zone as far as Law's explorations were concerned.

So, instead he focused on the other's stomach, nipping and sucking gently, tracing the lines of abdominals hidden beneath a layer of softness that he was sure the cook only carried because of his biological sex. Regardless of what Sanji thought of it, Law found it delicious! He left matching hickies to either side of the blond's navel, and kissed further down towards the waist of the pyjama pants he wore.

The skimming of his hands around Sanji's lower half had told him there wasn't anything between him and his prize except those pants, so when hands clenched in his hair, he began to pull them down.

Above him, Sanji bucked and squirmed, toes digging into the cushions where his legs were technically pinned down. Truth be told he had enough strength in his legs that he could have thrown Law through the wall if he really didn't like what was going on, which, in the back of his mind, he rationalized was why he didn't actually do anything to stop the brunet.

It was clear where he was going! And yeah, there was a large part of the cook that wasn't so sure he liked the idea of someone being down there, even if that someone did already know what to expect. The thing was they hadn't talked about this. He hadn't even gotten the chance to tell the other about… certain things… that had happened. Like That Night.

Oh God, now he was thinking about it!

He needed to stop Law, he needed to pull away, he needed to… to… "Ohhhhhhhhh!"

The moan shot straight down the doctor's spine to his groin, and his eyes flashed up over the thatch of gold curls to catch the sight of Sanji's back arching up off of the couch, his face contorted in pleasure, and his hands gripping the cushions to either side of his head. Smiling around his mouthful, Law sucked gently on the tiny button like he had before, and each time he did it, he was rewarded with more of that moaning.

He felt the slick beneath his chin and risked swiping his tongue through the hot folds for a taste. Salty, and a little on the bitter side, but still honey as far as the doctor was concerned. Especially when it came attached to that insanely illegal-sounding voice!

Sanji's mind stopped processing what was going on internally, overwhelmed with pleasure, and drowning in the growing coil of heat between his thighs.

He barely registered when the doctor's thumbs pulled him further open so he could dive deeper into the cook's slit.

Too hot. Too heavy. Too much, too fast! Sanji was losing himself, and couldn't bring himself to actually care about doing anything about it.

Law felt him quivering, thighs and pelvis all in the same rhythm. So he matched it, licking and sucking in pattern with the blond's natural rising pulse. When it seemed like, after a while, the high wasn't going anywhere else, he shifted his hand around.

Wait! What was he doing? Sanji's body screamed at him for trying to be distracted at a time like this!

The pads of two fingers touched a stretch of silky smooth skin, slick with natural juices and saliva.

No! NO NO! NO DON'T!

The body below him arched up into his tongue as he sucked down hard on Sanji's clit and pressed inside…

"AHHHHNNNAAHH!"

The cook cried, actual tears escaping his tightly closed lids as pleasure pulsed through his body, the internal muscles clenching around Law's fingers in time with the waves of his orgasm. The doctor coaxed him through it, thrusting his hand just a little, just enough to pulse pleasure through his body. Each aftershock drew another tiny, whining moan from him until he was actually able to pull away, drawing his legs up and closed.

Law frowned a little, "Sanji?"

"I'm okay. I'm okay. Honest. Just… too much… Sensitive. Sorry. I'm okay."

The cook forced himself to roll over, onto his knees, but doing so made him wince, a brand new source of pain, bright and fresh in his mind. Fortunately, Law assumed it was his ribs hurting him, and immediately leaned in to make it easier to reach him. They kissed several times, Sanji trying very hard not to focus on the taste of his own snatch on Law's tongue and lips. He was even able to make himself run his fingers through the doctor's thick hair.

But he was shaking, and he couldn't actually force the words out to offer to return the favor. He kept trying to put it off by kissing the other. But it just wasn't working.

Eventually, Law pulled back. "You're hurting."

"Yeah." Sanji couldn't even deny it.

"Then we should call it a night. You really do need to take it easy or you very well might end up on my operating table. I do trust you know the limits of your body, but trust me, and my expertise, when I say that if you push yourself tonight you will have to take tomorrow off. And since we already had this conversation, I really do not wish to have it a second time."

"But… you?"

Law shook his head. "I am fine. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to take care of such things on my own. And I would much rather go home and do so than impose on you when you should be resting. Come see me when your Tramadol runs out and I'll get you a new script. And perhaps," he smiled with a touch of color on his mismatched cheeks, "we should take a week apart? To let you heal. Since we seem to be…"

"Enthusiastic?" Sanji supplied, still shaking a little, though he was leaning back on the couch cushions instead of trying to sit up.

"Yes, that."

Law smiled wider, and stood. He stretched his arms up over his head, revealing a glimpse of pale pink at the top of one hip bone, and his back cracked in a few places. He rubbed the back of his head, giving the bulge in his jeans a semi-frustrated glare, then laughed. Leaning over to capture another kiss from his date, he seemed to purr.

"Like I said, snow leopard. I'll see you in a week, Kitten. Be good this time. Okay?"

Sanji nodded, and the doctor took it as sign that everything was fine. If the blond was too quiet, too docile, too accepting, he wrote it off as him having been working all day, plus dealing with his panic attack, and then the clearly mind-blowing orgasm having put strain on his bruises. Because surely if there was something else wrong, Sanji would say something about it.

Right?


	8. 9 October

**A/N:** Ahhhh, minna! I am so sorry this is late, I got tied up in doing other things, and Saturday just came and went without me realizing it! X''D Here's hoping steamy blowjobs will make up for it.

However, I do have something important I want to share with you all, so I hope you won't skip over this because it's a little longer of an Author's Note than I usually write.

Since I got a review with some questions in it, I wanna take a moment to address something. Sanji is transgender. This means he was assigned "female" at birth, and has female anatomy, but he uses male pronouns and refers to himself as a man, because he is one. The fact that his anatomy doesn't match his gender causes him significant stress and trouble known as dysphoria. Please, if this is confusing, feel free to message me privately and I'll be glad to help you understand.

The second thing was that there hasn't been much ZoSan here yet, and you're right. But this is a slow burn fic. As of right now, it's 32 chapters long, and growing. I know that sounds daunting! But I'm sure you'll love it! So the ZoSan is coming! I promise! Just gotta be patient for a bit.

As for the rest of the review, that stuff'll be revealed in time. *wink* No spoilers, but it gets a LOT worse before it gets better. Trust me.

As usual, Ace here is played by the wonderful Jenna and Beta'd by the amazing Ember. Ja ne~!

* * *

><p>"I fucking hate eBay."<p>

Law leaned over, "Why don't you just let me take you to my piercer? She sells just about any kind of ring you want."

Ace shivered and looked at him with a smirk. "She does, does she? Well then I think I'd like to take a look..."

"Gladly, but there's a price you know." The doctor side-eyed him with a matching smirk.

He closed his laptop and leaned forwards slightly. "Oooh~?"

"One kiss, and an evening with you all to myself. You've been working too hard, I can feel it in your neck."

Pursing his lips, because the project was almost complete, the artist glanced over his schedule app on his phone. There were still several weeks before it was due. He just hated to have things hanging over his head, especially with Luffy hanging around all the time. It was just asking for trouble. But… One night? Alone? Just him and Law? He couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

So, he smiled slowly, squirming closer to the older man, "I think that can be arranged..."

The laptop was shoved off the bed onto the floor quickly, if carefully, and Ace pounced him, capturing his mouth in a fiery kiss. Hands skirted up his back, pushing up his shirt to get skin on skin contact because Luffy had run off with Law's again. A shiver ran between them and teeth found somebody's lip ring, tugging on the metal with a purring growl at the same time that somebody else's thumbs found nipple rings to tweak.

"Oh purrrr, Mr. Portgas, do I sense you've missed me?" Law deliberately reached down to grope Ace's rear through his leggings.

The artist's back arched and he let out a soft groan, moving his hands to run his fingers through Law's hair. "Yes... maybe a little..."

Nipping his lip, Law pressed his snakebites against Ace's chin, eliciting another heavy shiver from the shorter man. He squirmed closer still, pressing his body fully against the other's, and a simultaneous roll of their hips brought the bulge in the zipper of Law's jeans against the answering arousal above him. In response Ace sucked on that sinful piercing again, biting down a bit harder than he originally intended thanks to Law groping his ass again.

"Feisty tonight." Law chuckled and did it again, "Now I know you're working too hard."

Ace let out a shuddering moan. "W-well... Maybe I haven't been taking as many breaks as I should..."

"Uh huh. Bad boy." The other chided with a sly smile.

Pulling back a little to pout at him, though a cheeky smirk played at his lips, Ace let his voice drop coyly, "Yes yes, I've been bad... You gonna punish me for it?"

"Maaybe~ Maybe I'll just take what I want from you and leave you needy on the bed all done up in that blue rope you like."

The artist went all still and a shudder ripped through his body. But to experience that... he definitely wouldn't protest much... maybe... "... That'd be a little too mean, Lawsie."

Law pulled him back down to nip at his ear, "Convince me not to, bad boy."

"Hnn..." He raked his nails down his lover's chest. "I'll be... a good boy... do whatever you want..."

"Gimme that mouth first. Then we'll see." The doctor rolled his hips again.

"Ngnn..." Ace licked his lips and his eyes fluttered for a moment, his thought process short-circuiting at the surge of pleasure from the contact between them. "Wanna... be more specific~?"

"Oh is that how it is tonight?" Law smirked, his voice a little rough, "Suck. My. Dick, Acey."

"Oooh..." The shudder that ran through Ace's body was a lot more powerful this time—because fuck did Law's voice _do_ things to him. Ace let out a low moan and began to squirm down Law's body. "Your wish is my command..."

The surgeon's hands followed him down, resting in Ace's hair, eyes alight with want.

Ace wasted no time in undoing Law's pants, pressing kiss after kiss across the surgeon's stomach, tracing the lines of the spots and tattoos as they came across his path, and when he finally had the prize free... Ace teasingly ran his fingers across it, not moving his mouth to it just yet.

"Nngh. Love your touch." Law propped himself up on one hand to watch, the other tracing a line of freckles down the side of Ace's temple.

The younger brunet hummed and pressed into it, always loving it and feeling more confident when he was told something like that. He gripped Law's cock gently and finally brushed his lips over the heated skin, his tongue darting out to taste it, and moaned at the familiar musky scent and flavor. Eagerly, Ace traced his tongue over Law's dual-colored shaft, wasting no time in zoning in on the head to flick at the slit with his tongue, keeping one hand at the base to hold it steady.

Law moaned, barely holding his hips still, the urge to buck into his lover's mouth was nearly overwhelming. His toes curled in the blanket, his knees drawing up to help him hold himself back. The hand in Ace's hair could only hold on as he fought the urge to close his eyes.

The artist snickered to himself and tongued the piercing at Law's frenulum for a moment, eyes drawn on the surgeon's face, watching for his reactions. He did so love watching his lovers come undone... it was one of the biggest ego boosts he could get. So he wasted no time in opening his mouth and sucking on the head.

Gold eyes popped wide open, damn that sexy tongue! "NNNGH!"

Humming, Ace just continued sucking the head like a lollie, making no move to take any more into his mouth, and trying very hard not to grin.

"Ahhhhaaaa, Acey, pleeeassse!" Law pleaded. The coil of pleasure was so hot he couldn't relax enough to come, tugging on his frenulum always did that, and it just _wasn't fair!_

Ooooh Ace loved to hear them beg! And Law's voice was just so fucking _sexy_!

Finally relaxing his throat, Ace instantly began to take in more of Law's cock, drawing down until the head was down his throat and his nose was touching the coarse black hair at the base. He moved one of his hands to lightly play with his lover's balls, and he hummed.

"ANGH!"

The older couldn't keep his eyes open, no matter how much he wanted to, the relaxation nearly sent him over. If Ace flicked his scrotum ring, he'd be gone, the orbs tight and tense, his thighs shivering with his willpower, and both hands held him up now because otherwise he'd be pulling Ace's hair out.

Greatly pleased by this reaction, and _knowing_ what would send Law over the edge but simply wanting to draw this out, just to torture Law a little, Ace bobbed his head, swallowing and humming and generally just taking his time.

But Ace had never really been patient himself. Nope. And only after a few teasing bobs did he flick the scrotum ring, and gave it a barely there tug.

The doctor curled in around his lover's head, all to keep from thrusting deep into the artist's throat, as his whole body spasmed with the pulse of his release. Hot, heavy, and breath-stealing. Oh yeah! Nobody's mouth was as good as Ace's, no matter how sexy the cook was. Nearly bent in half, Law rested his forehead on the top of Ace's hair, panting with a soft giggle at the tingle in his toes.

Ace remained very still, swallowing to help the surgeon through his release, and once he was sure Law was done he pulled back with a wide smirk, and began licking him clean. Oh yes, he did so love bringing them to ruin...

"Did I do good? Is... that enough to be a 'good boy'?"

"Ohhh yeah. Definitely, goody. Good boy." Law babbled, petting him.

"Excellent..." Ace purred and turned to bite down on one of Law's inner thighs and sucked.

"AHH!"

All of Law's nerves were still fiery after that, and his reaction was to press in closer to the bite. The cheeky bastard just kept sucking on that one spot, aiming to leave a dark, dark mark that wouldn't go away for _days_.

"Y-your g-gonna make the oth-thers je-ELL-ous, you keep that up."

"Mmm?" Ace pulled away just for a moment. "And... why is that a bad thing?" Then he grinned wildly and bit down again.

"Cuz then AHH! Then they'll want to-OOOH leave others. And you kno-OH! Stoppit! You know how Luffy does it."

The artist snickered loudly and decided to move to the opposite thigh, intent on giving it the same treatment. "Yeah, yeah I do... but again... why is that a bad thing?"

He bit down and sucked.

"NNNNNNGH! Acey that's not fair!" Law actually whined a little, bastard always took advantage of him when he was jelly-kneed and tingly to give him more spots than he already had! "S-Sanji doesn't... doesn't know yet."

"Aaaah..." At that, Ace pulled away with a pout. "Right. Sorry."

"We've only had two dates, love." Now able to breathe, the taller of the two pulled the shorter up into his lap to give him a gentle kiss. "It takes a bit to ease into if you remember. I wasn't all that sure about it at first, and I grew up with a polyamorous home. I don't think he did."

The pout faded, and Ace gave a solemn nod, and settled comfortably in the surgeon's lap. "Yeah, I understand..."

"I don't think he's ready for it, if I'm honest." Law rested his cheek against the other's hair, drawing absent circles down his spine. "I shouldn't talk about this, but since we were off the clock, he had new bruises the other night. Stuff he should have healing. They aren't. Did he and Zoro have another fight I don't know about?"

Ace frowned. "That's... No, not that I'm aware of. But I heard he had a few days off before, so... maybe something happened during that time?"

"Yeah, that was right before I saw him. He mentioned Zoro was living in his building with him." Law paused to hold the artist closer, "And that he ran into a door."

Ace wrapped his arms around Law's waist, leaning into him. "Really? I..." He chewed his lip. "That just doesn't sound that likely..."

"Yeah, it's nearly textbook. You know what I mean."

"...Yeah." The artist rested his head on Law's shoulder, frowning.

The doctor curled in closer, playing with one of the tiny spades dangling from his lover's ear. He wanted to help. Badly. But... unless he had an opening, he couldn't. Sanji was a grown man; it wasn't like if he'd been a child. Which was in all honesty the reason why he was in Ace's arms instead of at home. He couldn't stand to be alone with his thoughts tonight; he'd be up all night from it. So, instead, he placed another kiss on his artist's head, and changed the subject.

"How'd the mural go? Sanji mentioned paint being thrown?"

"Mmm." Ace hummed and relaxed in the surgeon's arms. "Luffy's fault, like usual, but some progress's been made at least..."

"That's good. You're still planning on using it as your final?"

"Mmhmm." Ace puffed his cheeks out. "So long as it's not ruined..."

"Ah, you'll get it fixed, even if Mugi faceplants into it. You did last time, remember?" Law nuzzled his ear with a smile.

"Yeah, but I was still pissed off. And panicked." Ace snickered, and it had a slightly hysterical edge to it. "Don't really need the stress of that, no matter how easily fixable it can be."

"Shhh, love, it hasn't happened and Mugi knows better. Nami booted him in the head with her stiletto while you were panicking."

Ace nodded and slumped against the surgeon. "Yeah... still worry sometimes though. Can't help it."

"I know. But you'll do fine." Law fell quiet for a while, just rubbing his cheek on the other's hair. Then he stiffened, "Oh! I was out to get that necklace for Sanji and I picked up something for you."

The artist blinked and pulled back, an excited smile coming to his lips. "Oh?"

"Yes. I remember the last we all were together, you were complaining to Sabo that everyone was going digital and leaving you behind."

Law couldn't help the smile that broke on his face as he scooted back to stand up. He didn't bother fixing his jeans other than to tuck himself back inside for protection. Then he ducked out of the bedroom to the small common room at the top of the stairs that led to the Sunny proper. A rustling sound came back to the artist's ears, and a moment later the doctor was back with a large square black something in an opaque plastic bag.

Ace moved up to his knees, leaning forwards in eager curiosity, practically bouncing on the bed. And when he saw what was is in Law's arms his eyes widened.

"Is that a… is that a fucking…" He made to bolt off the bed but his foot got caught, and he fell flat on his face.

"Ah! Are you alright?" Law set the present on the bed and bent down to help his lover off the ground.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I'm fine, all good." Ace clung to Law, staring at him with wide eyes, and then at the gift on his bed. "Is that… is that a fucking…?"

"Why don't you open it and find out?"

Ace pounced on it immediately, pulling at the packaging with careful hands, despite his rabid eagerness, and when he did, his eyes were wider than they'd ever been. "A fucking _Cintiq?_ Are you… are you fucking _kidding me?!_"

"Is... that not what you wanted?" Law came back to the bed as well, sitting far enough away that he wouldn't be in Ace's way, but close enough to still look at it. "That was the biggest one they had, and the picture shows up on the screen itself. Unlike the others that seemed to be a bit confusing. I'm uncertain how you would be able to draw with them if you can't see what you're doing, but the girl at the shop assured me that this should work well for you. If it doesn't—"

Ace latched onto Law, dragging him down onto the bed with a ferocious, all-consuming kiss.

That was the second time that week he'd been assaulted mouth-first, and if asked the surgeon had to admit, he kind of liked it. When he had control of his mouth again, he smiled and asked, "So I did good then?"

"Good!? 'So I did good then' he asks me!" Ace rolled, pinning Law to the bed beneath him. "_Yes_. You did good. You did amazing. A fucking _Cintiq?_ Law they're… they're worth thousands!"

"You know price doesn't matter! This is about making sure you have the tools for your trade! I wouldn't dare operate with substandard instruments and if it's within my means to get you top of the line equipment I'll do so!" Law was _not_ pouting.

"But…" Ace flailed for something to say. He was completely, utterly overwhelmed. "A-a simple tablet would have been fine, you... y-you didn't need to go out of your way to… I mean…"

Yes, Ace was at a complete loss for words.

"I wanted to." Tattooed fingers threaded through wavy black hair with the kind of smile he saved specifically for his beloveds. "You have a great talent, and you deserve the best. I can give that to you. Now, c'mon! Let's open it! I wanna see how it works!"

Ace swallowed, a red stain covering his cheeks - and then he was squirming down Law's body again. "Let… let me suck you suck you off again."

"You already did that! Draw for me instead!" Law caught his hands and nudged his head towards the tablet.

Ace let out a soft groan and chewed his lip, and hesitantly crawled back over to the Cintiq. "Al-alright, but I'm gonna suck... So damn badly, just... just so you know..."

"You will still be better than me. Of that I have no doubts. My doodles are crude at best."

The artist let out a shaky laugh, and set out taking the Cintiq out of the box with careful fingers. He was afraid he was going to break it.

"You'd… be surprised. I tried with a tablet once and it was _terrible_. Takes practice." His grin grew a little more firm, happy again. "That… that's where the challenge lies. Oh this is something _new_..."

Law draped himself around his lover, arms lightly folded around Ace's waist, and his chin on the other's shoulder to watch. He could have kept repeating himself, but they both knew it wouldn't do any good. Ace would still think his art was shit until he worked at it, and Law would still think the very idea of Ace putting color onto a page, digital or otherwise, was amazing. So, the often stoic doctor merely settled in to watch his workaholic beloved prove to himself that he wasn't shit.

Ace really did have no idea what he was doing. He barely glanced at the instructions, only reading so far to see how thing turned on and what button did what. Though he disliked being watched in general, if it was one of his lovers he was usually ok. Law's presence comforted him, and the surgeon deserved the chance to watch him experiment. And this was just for the fun of it anyway...

So once it was on, Ace scribbled.


End file.
